


under the canyon moon

by canyonbrave



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Country Side Au, Cowboy Harry, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Harry Styles - Freeform, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Texas, alternative universe, country
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canyonbrave/pseuds/canyonbrave
Summary: Two years after Louis filed a complaint against his ex-husband for abuse, he escapes from prison and Louis is forced to flee the UK.He ends up in a small town in Texas in the southern United States.Having to give up his life full of luxury and money, Louis will learn from the Styles that sometimes the Texas sunset can heal broken hearts.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 26
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amoechan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amoechan/gifts).



> Hello! Well, English is not my native language, I am writing this story in Spanish, but Amoechan is translating it. So thank you, it is beautiful the work you have promised to do ♥
> 
> Warnings: Louis has come out of an abusive relationship, so, obviously, he is going to have psychological consequences and episodes of violence that he experienced are going to be described. It is not trivialized at any time.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, and if you see any errors please let me know :)

Louis adds another rose in the small bouquet. Finding himself satisfied with the result, he hands over the flowers to the elderly woman who is waiting by the counter. 

"Here you go. So, what do you think?" He asks giddily and she picks it up to examine it closer. 

"Beautiful as always, Louis." She praises, carefully setting aside the bouquet to hand over her payment.

"Thank you," Louis smiles, accepting the money and returning the change shortly after. "Come visit us again."

This is how Louis spend most of his days. He wakes up in a cold bed, eat breakfast till he's full and goes to work at a leisurely pace. It sounds pretty dull, right? But things are actually better now than four years ago, when he wakes at ungodly hours to prepare breakfast for his ex-husband, Dylan, while he survives on a mere cup of tea on his way to work - or the lack of work thereof, when at one point in his life, he has gotten himself fired from the art gallery he works at since graduating from college. 

Not knowing any other type of work, Louis has to swallow the shame everytime Dylan berates him for being a jobless leech. That is until Louis meets Marie, an eighty-year old widow, whose been singlehandedly running a quaint flower shop for more than fifty years. 

The shop isn't doing so well when Louis started, though. But something in Louis' joyful and light personality must have attracted people and it didn't take long for the business to boom once more. 

Marie has branded him an angel-a miracle sent to keep her business afloat. But Louis just shakes his head, knowing that it is the other way around. 

This job is the miracle. 

"Louis, dear," Marie's soft voice echoes through the store. Louis looks her way, finding her near the lilies. "please come here."

Louis bids the customer goodbye before locking the cash register and heading over to Marie. 

"Can you go at the back and pick up what's in the truck please?" She requests while picking up one of the few lilies left for sale. "Greg went to visit the doctor today and I don't think my back could handle doing it..."

Louis looks down at his latest Gucci loafers. This pair is just a couple weeks old and it's definitely not the kind of footwear one would wear for a handler's work. With a pout, he looks at Marie. 

"But my shoes..." 

"Louis, dear," Marie stops him with a light chuckle. "Please spare me another speech about clothing brands."

Louis smiles defeatedly. He nods, saying nothing more.

Louis spends the rest of the day unloading the merchandise and striking up light conversations with the trucker. By nine o'clock, Marie calls him from the counter. "It's time to go home, dear. It's cold and tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Louis sighs, leaving the sunflowers beside the roses to take them out tomorrow for display. 

"Sure, just let me close up first."

"Oh, none of that. You've been closing all month and today you unloaded the entire truck." Marie smiles, leaving the counter to approach him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Go home."

"Well, okay..." He accepts. "But I'll open tomorrow."

"Oh, don't be stubborn."

Louis laughs, giving her a little hug before preparing to go home. Once he grabs everything he needs, he leaves the shop, walking through the cold streets of London and heading straight to the nearest bus stop. 

Choosing a seat near the back, Louis watches the view outside the window as the bus drives him home. In thirty-minutes, he arrives at the apartment he's been living in since moving out from the house that he shared with Dylan. 

He swipes his keycard and goes inside,setting his loafers aside before heading towards the kitchen barefoot to make himself a cup of tea. 

Thinking that he's got some time to waste, Louis takes his mug to the living room and sits on the sofa before turning the TV on. 

"And, in other news," the reporter's voice immediately invades the room and Louis couldn't help but focus on it, "Dylan Campbell, a twenty-seven-year-old man whose been serving two years for domestic violence, has escaped prison earlier this morning."

Louis freezes on the spot, mug crashing down as he stares unblikingly at the image of his ex-husband on the screen. 

"According to police sources, Campbell is sentenced to serve sixteen years in prison for knocking his ex-husband unconscious due to extreme beating." The screen goes back to the reporter where the prison is shown clearly on the background. "It is under speculation that Campbell had an accomplice who helped him escape, making the police exert more effort in hunting him down."

Louis feels his breath quicken as cold sweat soak him from head to toe. 

"If anyone knows of Campbell's whereabouts, the police have put a number for-"

A knock on the door makes him come out of his reverie. Louis gets up on wobbling knees, feeling rather small as he grasp the back of the sofa for support. The knocks continue, not showing any sign of stopping. And Louis is stuck making the choice between opening the door or running for his life, because if the person behind that door happens to be Dylan... 

Louis is dead.

"Mister Tomlinson!" A loud voice is heard behind the wood, followed by another knock. "We are the police, please open up."

Louis finally finds the courage to approach the door, getting on his tippy-toes to peek through the peephole and he sees two men in police uniform. Taking a deep breath, he opens the door cautiously.

His suspicion must have been pretty obvious for they immediately show their badges, proving that they are indeed the police. 

"Oh," Louis lets go of the air he's been holding, putting a hand on his chest, "Oh my God, thank goodness you're here. I-I just heard the news a-and-"

"Sir, please calm down." One of the policemen urges him to relax. "We know you're really rattled at the moment but we request that you come with us into police custody until there's news about Campbell."

Louis nods without question, going back inside to get his phone and wearing a jacket over his clothes. 

Together with the two policemen, Louis crosses the street to get into the police vehicle. 

"I know this is a bit uncomfortable, but do you mind sitting in the backseat?"

Louis shakes his head, sitting himself inside without complaints. It didn't take long for the car to drive away and Louis busies himself by watching the city lights pass through his vision, droning out the voices of the policemen talking over the radio. 

The road is long and tedious, making his head spin. At some point, he almost hurl out the tea he drank earlier. Thankfully, the policemen are attentive, handing him a bottle of water which he didn't hesitate to drink. 

When they arrive at the police station, he finds that it hasn't change much from the night he filed a charges against Dylan. 

"Please take a seat," an officer offers him and Louis sits himself on a bench where a silent young woman sits on the other end. 

"The commissioner will be here with you shortly."

"Okay."

Louis crosses his legs, tightening his grip on his now half-empty water bottle. 

The fact that Dylan has escaped can only mean one thing, and that is to fulfill his promise to Louis in the last hearing of their trial. 

Louis shivers, remembering how black his eye and how unbearable the ache on his broken ribs has been. And although Louis is having issues seeing clearly due to the bandage wrapped around his head, he's seen and heard Dylan bright and clear, 

"I will kill you."

If smashing his head on the white marble sink haven't done the job, Louis knows that next time, Dylan will succeed. 

Louis hasn't thought much about the threat. His ex-husband is sentenced sixteen years in prison after all. In that time, Louis could've moved to another country. But he isn't prepared for this to happen so soon, not two years too soon. 

"Mr. Tomlinson?" The commissioner's voice brings him out of his thoughts. When he looks up, Louis' met with a familiar face.

"Oh, it's you."

The commissioner is the same man who helped Louis apprehend his ex-husband and he could clearly see how sorry the commisioner is with their current situation. "Please come with me."

Louis leaves his water bottle, standing up to follow the commissioner wordlessly deeper inside the station. They stop at the furthest room and the man holds the door for him as he enters. Once they are both seated, Louis draws his knees together and hides his shaking hands under his thighs. 

"As you already know, Mr. Campbell has escaped." The commissioner begins, clasping his hands on the table. "We still don't know how he did it, but we are certain that he received help. We are retracing his steps but since we haven't gotten anything useful about where he is, we're thinking that he is most likely to go after.."

"Me?" Louis asks, grimacing.

"Yes." He responds. "And unfortunately, all I can offer you is to stay here, or have police surveillance 24 hours a day."

"Are those my only options?" Louis asks softly, shifting uncomfortably when the man nods. "Because none of that will stop him."

"Sadly, we can't do more."

"What do you mean you can't do more!?" Louis exclaims. "You are the police - state security cops to be exact. You should be able to do something. You *have* to do something!"

"The situation is very distressing to me as well, Mr. Tomlinson," the man purses his lips, giving him an apologetic stare. "But the State hardly takes charge of domestic violence cases. What I offer you is the best I can, there's just no other way. You know perfectly well that if all these were in my hands, I would do anything to help yoy."

"Yes, yes, I know," Louis mutters dizzily, nodding in defeat. "Can I- can I make a call?"

"Go ahead." The man accepts. "Get yourself something hot while you're at it. It is very cold. We'll continue when you get back."

Louis tightens his jacket around himself, muttering a simple yes before getting out of the room and heading towards an empty aisle seat. Taking out his phone, Louis dials the number he knows by heart. 

"Louis?" Marie immediately answers from the other end of the line. "Why are you calling so late?"

"Oh God," Louis sighs. "Marie, I need your help."

"Okay, boy. Try to relax." Marie rattles with something behind the line and then returns to him. "Tell me what happened?"

"Dylan-" Louis gulps. "Dylan has escaped from prison."

"Oh." She mutters. "Where are you?"

"At the police station, they called me and said that the only thing they can do for me is to put an escort on me or be here until they find him ... And I- God, I don't know, Marie. You are the only family I have and thought about calling you because- "

"Okay," Cut it again. "Relax, Louis."

"I can't, it's just-"

"Atleast, try to," She insists. "And wait for me there."

"Okay." Louis murmurs. "Thank you..."

"Oh hush, dear. There's no need for you to thank me." Marie admonishes. "Which one are you on? The same one you filed the complaint in?"

"Yes."

Louis looks around and remembers himself sitting on the same spot a couple of years ago. His hair has been badly tousled, eyes swollen and lips split bloody. 

He's barely able to stand on his own. The pain from his broken rib and mangled head has him crawling his way to the phone, calling Marie right after Dylan left him lying unconscious on the bathroom floor.  
The old woman is quick to come to his aid. And althroughout the hospital stay and court trial cases, Marie has supported him without asking for anything in return. 

"Do you want something for dinner?"

"I don't wanna bother you" Louis replies. "Really."

"You are never a bother, Louis."

Louis chuckles - the first in what seems like hours - and then thanks her for the thousandth time.

Marie arrives half an hour later, with a paper bag on one hand and two coffees on the other. She forces him to eat those plum buns she knows he loves, and then sips on her coffee.

"Louis ..." Marie begins, a little later. "I know you won't accept this, but I have a house-"

"Marie..."

"Let me finish, dear," he asks. "please."

"Just know that whatever it is, I'm going to say no."

Marie makes a gesture with her hand and Louis shuts up.

"My family owns a ranch in the United States. Well, it was from my parents, but right now my brother's children live there." She tells him. "It is quite large. They cultivate and run livestock there. The family also have a farmhouse, but there are a couple of houses scattered throughout the ranch. And I have one-"

"Marie."

"Let me finish." She shushes. "I never use it because, as you see, I'm too old for too much travelling. So I only visit there once a year."

Louis shakes his head. 

"Look, Louis," Marie narrows her eyes at him. "If you stay there, all you have to do is help with the crops and animals. I am not going to charge you anything."

Louis isn't exactly thrilled with the idea of touching farm animals or working around mud but he keeps his mouth shut. Marie is giving him an easier way out, a third option if one would like to call it. He sighs, facing Marie and picking up her hands.

"I don't know, Marie."

"Please accept it," the woman caresses his hand, looking him straight in the eye. "We both know that you need to get out of here."

"But I won't be there to help you in the flowershop anymore."

"I'll manage, boy." She promises with a smile. "The most important thing right now is your safety and staying here wouldn't be the wisest choice for you."

Louis sighs and hugs the old woman affectionately.

"Thank you very much, Marie. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you for this."

"Just help there, okay?" Marie pats his back. "The family is huge and there are boys your age. I'm sure you'll like them."

Louis laughs softly and pulls away from her, tears falling from his eyes.

"Thank you very much."

"Stop thanking me!" She exclaims sulkily, frowning - which gets another laugh from Louis. "The only thing I'm asking of you is to stop being conceited and try not to bring your branded clothes, okay? People are different there. They won't understand you as much as I do."

"That would be difficult, considering that all my clothes are branded."

"Oh, you're so vain ..." Marie laughs. "Let's get you home and pack your things."

An hour later, the commissioner is informed of the matter and Louis is using his last savings to buy a direct flight to Texas. The police force him to sign a couple of papers (voluntary rejection of police custody and other bullshit so that they are not guilty if things go wrong) and Marie accompanies him throughout the process. They go to Louis's house, where he fills two suitcases. He puts in all the clothes he is capable of folding and also some of his most precious ones - as well as a lot of trainers, which will surely come in handy.

"When they ask, just tell them that I'm charging you cheap as long as you help around the farm, okay?"

"Okay."

"Where's your phone?" Marie asks from where she's sitting. 

"I need it," Louis retorts. 

"You do remember what the commisioner said, right?"

Louis sighs, leaving his phone on the table.

"Well done, boy."

"Good thing, I know the shop's number by heart." Louis smiles.

Thus, a short time later, Louis is on a plane, escaping from the United Kingdom and not knowing when he will be able to return.


	2. Chapter 2

The plane ride takes about ten hours, giving Louis plenty of time to think. As the plane takes off, he realizes that he's about to leave the place he called home for the last twenty-five years but can't really bring himself to care - for Marie is the only one he'll miss from moving away. 

To pass the time, Louis distracts himself by watching a couple of movies and eating the steak and steamed potatoes served by the kind stewardess. By the time the plane lands, Louis' just had enough sleep to avoid getting dizzy when he stand, feeling as though he's in a dream because somehow, he couldn't quite believe that he is thousand miles away from UK. 

Not being used to the overwhelming heat of Texas, Louis changes into something more fitting with the weather before fighting over the right to ride the taxi he's been patiently waiting for for a long time. 

"Hi, where should I take you?" The taxi driver asks him, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror, the southern accent thick on his tongue - Louis holds back a chuckle, afraid that his amusement will be taken wrongly.

"Sunflower Village, please."

The taxi driver turns in his seat and looks at him directly. "That's four hours away from here, son."

"Why? Can't you take me there?" Louis asks with a frown.

"Sure I can, but it's going to cost you a lot."

"Don't worry about it."

The taxi driver nods without further question and sets off on the long road while Louis slides down onto the back seat.

As the hours go by, the buildings slowly begin to disappear and be replaced with endless field of green grass, occasionally mixing with crops on dry land. 

The air is purer and the road is older, but he doesn't give them much mind, not when his eyes are glued at the sight of the cotton plantation so large, it extends way beyond his eyes could see. 

"Pretty nice, huh?" The taxi driver asks, eyes still fixed on the road.

"It's beautiful." Louis agrees.

"Don't you have something like that in England?"

Louis smiles, face close to the window. He ignores how quickly the man has discerned him to be English with only a handful of words. 

"No, not in my city, at least."

The man seems content with the response, smiling before looking back on the road.

They pass through fields upon fields of seemingly endless crops. Louis sees men and women working under the heat of the sun. Some are riding on tractors while others are in groups, talking and drinking beer. There are also horses running free, sheeps lounging around, and odd goats watching cars that passes the road. 

The view changes slightly when the taxi enters what appears to be the main square of the town, stopping at a roundabout with a fountain on the center.

"Would you like me to take you to the farm?"

"Uhm," Louis mutters when the driver looks at him again. Suddenly feeling shy, Louis averts his gaze down to his shoes. "It would be a great help. Thank you."

Thus, the taxi driver sets off again to the highway where gates to farms and ranches begin. They stare at each sign, trying not to be blinded by the sun's rays, and it takes little more than half an hour to come across what they're looking for. 

The Styles surname stands out in black letters - although the letter 'L' looks more like an 'I', since parts of the paint has melted off presumably due to the heat.

"Here!" Louis exclaims, sticking his arm out the window and pointing towards the sign. "I think it's here!"

The taxi driver stops and charges him about four hundred dollars - one hundred per hour, he supposes - and even without converting the dollar to pounds, he knows it cost him a lot. 

"Thanks, son." The driver says, waving him goodbye through the window. "Have a great adventure!"

Louis nods in appreciation, pulling his two suitcases closer him. He watches the taxi until it's out of his sight while taking in his surroundings. This is one hell of an adventure indeed. 

"Anyway." He murmurs to himself, eyeing the infamous ranch that Marie's been speaking wonders of. 

There is a stone path that leads to a big house, and all he can see around it are endless view of plantations from every angle. He sighs, opening the fences and pulling his suitcases as he marches in. 

His white trainers hit one of the stones and Louis falls to his right, landing straight into a mud puddle. "Oh you can't be serious," Louis throws his arms in the air and a few drops flies out, making it worse. He propels himself forward, getting up with little care and wondering how did a pool of mud form in this heat.

He shakes his body in a hopeless attempt to rid of the mud. With sticky hands, he grabs his two suitcases, leaving them aside by the entrance stairs, not having enough strength to carry them up at this point. He knocks twice on the door and waits patiently for a few minutes - or as patient as Louis can be, which doesn't amount to much, seeing as he is tapping the floor with his now-brown trainers.

"Oh God, help me." He mumbles, giving up when he doesn't get an answer. He looks at the sky for a few seconds before jumping down the steps.

He scans the area, realizing how many well-kept flowers are there, thinking the penchant for flowers must be a family thing. He pouts, deciding to head towards the back and search further into the garden. 

The sun is at its peak when he reaches what seems to be rows of stables and pens in the midst of acres of crops. There are small places with orange soil (where you can see some kind of animal that he doesn't bother to inspect) and in others the grass are long and green, gleaming under the sun.

Louis peeks around and there he sees two men leaning against the wooden fence close to the house. He takes his time heading towards them and neither one has noticed his presence yet. To catch their attention, he clears his throat and murmurs a quiet, "Hello." 

The men stop talking, turning to face him. Louis realizes that they are both actually quite young, despite their furrowed brows and confused looks.

"Hello," he says again, cocking his head at them. "I am Louis."

The man with light blue eyes hides a smile when he notices the mud on his clothes. His comfortable posture makes him look likeable though, even with the trace of beard covering his slim cheeks. 

The other man, however, have eyes that gleams greener than the grasses around them, making it almost impossible to look away. There are freckles swirling on his cheeks and a few curls escaping from under his black cowboy hat. Louis could also tell that under the plaid shirt he wears, well-defined muscles hide within.

Louis shakes himself mentally, knowing better than to check out a stranger whose practically judging him by eyeing his dirty clothes. 

"Louis?" The aforementioned man asks, shaking his head. His voice is hoarse and deep, and Louis has to blink because for a moment, he feels a little bewildered. "What Louis?"

His cheeks turn red, possibly from embarrassment, and he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, coughing slightly to clear his voice and trying to ignore the boy's southern accent which sounds really good coming from him.

"Marie..."

"Marie?" The other boy intervenes in a much softer voice. 

"Yes ..." Louis murmurs, trying to find himself through his thoughts. The heat is starting to take its toll on him because the mud is drying up and sticking on his skin - and he really just wants to get home and take a well-deserved shower, and then rest. "She rented me her house...can you tell me where it is?"

"That's impossible." The curly-haired man shakes his head and the smirk that takes over his face couldn't be mistaken for something else but mocking. "Are you sure that you aren't lost?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Louis defends, clearly offended. Nervously, he runs his hands over his pants, searching for his pockets but the mud on them is making it difficult. He snorts considerably loud, almost filling his cheeks with air. "I mean ..." Louis takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I mean, she even gave me a key." 

The curly one bites his lip and looks at the other man, letting out a laugh. Louis frowns at him and begins to take offense. Firstly, why is this person, who possibly shovel tons of cow shit a year, laughing at him? And secondly, why is it making him feel maddeningly stupid right now?

"A key?" The blue-eyed man asks, silently pleading the curly-haired man to stop laughing.

"God, please, just-" Louis pleads into the air, trying not to be upset. "Can you just tell me where it is so I can go?"

"But, sir-"

"Please, don't address me as 'sir'." Louis cuts the curly-haired man sharply, crossing his arms over his chest and starting to tap his feet on the ground.

"What do you want me to call you then?"

"Just Louis." He asks, trying not to scream.

"Okay, just Louis," the green-eyed boy repeats, still with that disgustingly mocking smile on his lips and Louis wants to take two steps forward and rip it off. "You are on our ranch. And if you want to be here, then we must know who you are."

"I've already told you who I am, I'm Louis." He replies by scratching the bridge of his nose lightly, and then he raises his hands in the air. "Can you ... I don't know, call her? Maybe."

"We can do that."

"I have the number of her flower shop in UK. You can talk to her and confirm whether I'm telling the truth."

The boys look at each other, probably conversing with their eyes, just before the shorter one shrugs and nods. Louis sighs calmly, smiling for the first time in front of these two strangers.

"Don't wander off," the curly-haired one warns, his eyes intensely on him. "You could get lost."

The man stands fully and it is at this moment that Louis realizes the man to be taller than he seems. He's about two heads higher and Louis has to lean back just to look him in the eye. He nods shakily, a bit intimidated. He pulls back slightly as both men set out but still his shoulder collides gently with the curly-haired man. 

Louis moves away further and looks into the distance, shaking off the soft touch. 

He stands there, with the sun burning his skin. It doesn't take long for him to notice that footsteps are approaching him from behind. He turns and finds himself eye-to-eye with the curly-haired man.

"Well, Louis. I'm Harry." He says, moving closer which makes the height difference much more visible than before and Louis can't help but feel extremely small next to him. "And this sucks but the phone line is broken. I don't think it'll be fixed soon, not until next week at least."

"Oh great." Louis breathes out in exasperation, running a hand through his hair and hiding his disappointment.

"But, Niall is going to town to call her, so we can make sure that you're telling the truth." Harry adds, going back to the fence to lean against it. "And honestly, I don't know what Marie told you, but her house is not exactly homely right now. There was a storm at the end of winter and a tree fell on it. The house is half ruined."

"What?" Louis asks with his cheeks full of air, tired and anguished because, well, it has been almost 20 hours of travel, and to hear that the house is not exactly habitatable right now doesn't make him feel any better.

Harry shrugs, giving him another cheeky smile. "And assuming what you say is true-"

"Well it is!" Louis cuts him off by exclaiming, pushing his fists down and almost stomping his foot like a child. "Why on earth would I travel this far?"

"Well, I don't know..."

"Oh, you're right," Louis sneers, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "I was sitting at my house in London, which, to let you know, is eleven hours away by plane, and I thought: Oh shit, I should go to the other side of the world and stop at the first farm that I find, to see if some stupid bloody cowboy lets me sleep at his house ... for no fucking reason. "

"Okay, okay!" Harry agrees, propping his elbows on the fence to raise his hands in peace. "I've decided to believe you because, well, you wouldn't know Marie's name, you have an English accent and-"

"Don't screw with me, Sherlock."

Harry rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, before putting his lips together in a fine line and simply denying to continue speaking.

"You're already here, so I guess you would like to a place to stay."

Louis blinks and cocks his head.

"Obviously?"

"But as I already told you, Marie's house isn't available right now. And it probably won't be until the end of summer, which is when they'll start fixing it up." Harry crosses his arms across his chest, his strong muscles tightening again and Louis begins to feel dizzy. But he attributes it to the heat because what else could this be about. "And the other houses are occupied. The only thing that is free are the rooms in the farmhouse."

"The big house."

"Yeah, the big one." Harry nods, pointing behind Louis. "And if you are paying the rent I must offer you something."

"Well, I'm not really paying rent." Louis grimaces, hiding his hands behind his back. "No, uhh, what I mean to say is, Marie told me that she would charge me less if I helped in the farm."

Harry frowns and for the first time in the entire conversation, he inspects him up and down. His eyes rakes from his expensive trainers to his salon-styled hair and then he cocks his head, looking like he doesn't quite believe him.

"You?" He asks, confused. His green eyes roam over Louis's face, making him feel small. "Have you ever done any field work?"

"No, but ..." Louis shrugs. "I can learn, so."

"Okay, stranger," Harry mockingly agrees. "But first, you really need a shower."

Louis furrows his brows and analyzes the situation. This cowboy has been mocking him since they met and even until now, he's doing it. Louis is two seconds away from blowing a fuse but bites his lips hard instead, because dropping a couple of expletives won't help his situation at all - especially if this man has the power to throw him out in the street.

"I-" Louis sighs. "Yes."

"Alright, let's go."

The man begins to make his way to the house again, so Louis follows him. Harry's footsteps are long and Louis has to jog a bit so as not to fall behind.

"Everyone's out by the way, They're helping prepare for the harvest feast." Harry says, turning his head to look over at him and Louis nods, as if he has any remote idea of what that feast is about. "It starts at eight, do you think you can go?"

"The harvest festival?" He asks, watching him climb the steps to the front of the house.

Harry urges him in with his hand and holds the door for him, so Louis rushes to collect his bags and passes him with a quick thanks.

Louis stands watching as Harry enters, leaving his hat on a coats rack. It is, then, when his curls are fully shown that Louis loses himself in awe with the way his hair fall, revealing soft chocolate-colored ringlets.

"Yes," Harry replies, pulling him out of his reverie as he tousles his head and makes his way inside. The first thing Louis sees is a rustic kitchen, with a large table and chairs around it. "Summer's about to start. So it is the town's tradition to ask for the harvest to go well."

"I see." Louis mutters looking around, watching Harry open the fridge for something. He takes out what appears to be a bottle of water and then rummages in the cabinets for a glass.

"Water?" He asks, but Louis shakes his head no, so he turns in front of the counter to pour the water into his own glass. "Well, that's eight o'clock tonight in town. That's why I asked you if you think you can go."

"I don't know, honestly." Louis shifts uncomfortably with the suitcases in his hands and watches him swallow the water. A few drops drip down his chin, and when he's done, Harry runs a hand lightly to clean himself. "I should take that shower first, you know, and then I'll see if I can."

"Sure." Harry nods, leaving the glass on the sink. "I don't think you will like it though."

"Why?" Louis cocks his head, watching as Harry shrugs and enters what appears to be a hallway - he doesn't need to tell Louis to follow, because he's already making his way to where Harry's going. 

"They will listen to country music, dance, drink whiskey and other cowboy things you can find in the book." Harry tells him simply, opening a door at the end of the hall. There's a nice room behind it, with a queen-size bed covered in a pink flower bedspread and a window which faces the back of the house, letting the sun rays bathe the walls beige and orange. "This is your room, if you like it, of course."

Louis nods and walks in with his suitcase, leaving them somewhere - and then, he turns to face Harry with a frown.

"Why do you think that I won't like the party?"

Harry seems to raise his eyebrows and stretch a silly smile.

"I don't think that's what you're used to, to be honest."

"And what is it that I'm used to?" Louis questions him, offended.

"I don't know," Harry shows his dimple and rests his entire body on the door frame, crossing his feet and hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He is very handsome, truth to be told, but Louis is already starting to dislike him. "You just have to see for yourself."

"Judging the book by its cover, Harry. I see."

"It is Har-rih, not Ha-reh."

"Where is the bathroom?" He asks dismissively, ignoring him because he is not going to get into an argument where Harry gains more chances to make fun of his accent. No sir, he has had enough for today.

Harry narrows his eyes at him and nods, pointing to a door.

"Perfect, thanks."

Louis bows his head a little and then simply closes the door on his face.

He sighs when he is alone in the room for the first time and takes time to remove his mud-stained clothing. He opens the suitcase on the bed and rummages around, thinking that, in reality, he doesn't have any clothes that match the norm here. He already has to put up with Harry's comments, and if he's going to that party, Louis can already imagine how everyone will look at him. 

He grabs a short dark jeans, a pair of black trainers, and the most basic shirt in his case- which is garishly red. He pokes his head out the door, trying to catch glimpse of Harry and when he doesn't see him anywhere, he sighs in relief and runs to the bathroom.

He takes his well-deserved shower and then loses himself in front of the mirror. He has big dark circles under his eyes and his skin is sickeningly pale. He looks extremely tired but there is an impetuous need in his stomach to annoy Harry, so he pats his cheeks a couple of times to wake himself up.

He dresses as fast as he can and opens the door, letting the heat out. He goes to his room and leaves the dirty clothes there, and then he makes his way through the hallway and goes to the only place he knows for now: the kitchen.

There, the blond man from earlier is sitting and Harry looks at him from the kitchen counter.

"Uh, hi, Louis." The blue-eyed man greets him, smiling and rising from his chair. "I am Niall. Sorry if I haven't introduced myself before."

He reaches out his hand and Louis picks it up to return the greeting.

"You're less funny now, without all that mud on top of you." Harry scoffs, arms folded across his chest.

Louis rolls his eyes and ignores him, focusing his gaze on Niall.

"Were you able to speak with Marie?"

"Oh yes, yes," Niall laughs. "Actually, you were right. She says she rented it to you." Louis nods his head in satisfaction at them because, well, he is right. "So ..."

"So..?"

"Welcome to the Styles family, Louis."

"Thanks, I guess."

\----

An hour later, Louis is perched on top of some sort of wagon that Niall drives across the road. Harry and Niall talk about cows and Louis ignores them, silently berating himself for agreeing to go the festival. 

Okay, he's a proud guy who wants to prove a point, but now his muscles ache and his simple existence is beginning to weigh on him.

"Hey Louis," Niall calls him from the front and he forces himself to take his eyes off the window and fix them in the rearview mirror. "Do you know how to dance country?"

Louis wants to laugh out loud because no, he doesn't know how to dance at all - maybe a little ballroom dancing, but it's not like he's going to do that either.

"No."

"You can always learn." Harry replies, with a smile- and Louis knows that another stupid comment is coming. "If those branded shoes allow you to."

"Ha. Ha." Louis mutters dryly, leaning closer on the back of Niall's seat to face Harry. "Are you going to keep making those comments the whole time I'm here?"

"Do you plan to be here for a long time?" Harry responds, leaning sideways on the headrest of his seat and fixing his green eyes on him. Louis puts his lips together and nods in response. "Then yes."

"Don't screw with me."

"Don't screw with me." Harry repeats, trying to imitate his English accent - then lets a laugh catch in his throat, before looking back at him. "Have you ever been told that you have a very funny accent?"

"Have they ever told you that you're an stup-"

"Boys," Niall cuts them off with a giggle, just as the town is looking into the distance. "Let's have the party in peace, for the love of God."

Louis sighs heavily and takes his eyes off Harry - who doesn't do it back. He hears Harry mutter something, but he doesn't pay much attention to it, because the car enters the main town square and Louis is surprised by the number of people there.

Niall leaves the car in a large park that is nearly full and Louis quickly takes off his seatbelt and put his feet on the ground, ignoring Harry and focusing his eyes on Niall.

"Wow ..." Louis mutters, as the lights come on and he sees people scattered all over the plaza. Some people drink near makeshift bars and others dance in front of a stage, where there is a man singing live. "Amazing. I've never seen anything like this."

It is not a small-town as Harry implied.

"Don't they do festivals there?" Niall asks him, pushing him somewhere and starting to walk.

"In UK?" Louis questions from his position, watching as a couple sways and dances perfectly. "I dont know."

He clings as much as he can to Niall, almost leaving Harry aside - who walks calmly after them, clad in those boots and stops occasionally to greet people.

They enter the main hall of the festival and begin to approach the bar.

"The family must be scattered around here." Niall tells him, just before turning to Harry- who has stopped in front of a pretty young woman, talking about something Louis doesn't pay attention to. "Harry, I'll take Louis so he can meet everyone."

The curly one gestures with his hand without paying much attention to them and Niall shrugs, turning back to Louis.

"I'm sure you'll like them."

"I hope so." Louis mutters nervously, wishing everyone is a lot more like Niall and nothing like Harry.

They pass through chairs and tables, standing close to a long bench which is surrounded by people who are talking to each other, sharing drinks and laughing out loud. There's only a few of them, compared to the crowd, but they are definitely loud.

"Boys!" Niall exclaims to them, without much result. "Hey guys!" He call out louder and Louis sees all eyes shift to Niall and then on him. "This is Louis."

"What Louis?" A dark-haired woman asks at the end of the table and Louis drags his gaze towards her, feeling rather familiar with her eyes.

"I told you before," Niall laughs, shaking his head. "He's the boy Marie has rented her house to."

"Hello ..." Louis speaks for the first time, half embarrassed, and raises his hand in greeting. They return the gesture, putting a genuine smile on his face. 

"Well," Niall looks at him. "Only the three of them are family here." He points to the woman who has spoken before. "This is Anne, Harry's mother."

"It's nice to meet you, Anne."

The brunette smiles warmly. "Same."

"And these are Maura and Bobby." Niall points to a couple. "They are my parents and Taylor's."

"Taylor?"

"My sister, you'll meet her soon." He explains and Louis nods.

"Oh, we're happy to meet you too."

Niall smiles at his parents when they return the greeting. "Come on, let's find Liam. We'll see you guys later."

"Sure, son." Maura smiles.

"Come on Louis." Niall extends his hand, urging him to walk so he does. "Liam must be close around the gaming area."

"Who's Liam?" He asks once they enter the main street, gently pushing through the people.

"Liam is our cousin, son of Uncle Geoff," he explains as he leads towards the rides. "But Uncle Geoff lives here in the town and doesn't work on the farm. He visits on the afternoons though."

"How about Liam? Does he work in the farm?"

"Yeah," Niall's southern accent collides with his teeth. "We all work there except Uncle Geoff."

"Hmm." Louis hums, out of nothing else to say. 

They pass a small ferris wheel designed for children and Louis is rather impressed because while these types of fair are common in London, none of them are as welcoming as this one. They approach the shooting stations and Louis watches as Niall hits the back of a tall brown-haired man.

"Hey, Li, how's it going?"

The man smiles at them.

"On my third round," he says and then turns. "Are you Louis?"

"Yes, it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too."

They exchange polite greetings and Louis stands aside as Niall and Liam arrange meeting at the bar later. 

"So now, all that's left is Liz, my wife." He says, when they're away from the gaming area.

"Oh, you're married."

"Yeah," Niall smiles happily and Louis wonders what it must feel like to be loved in such a way that they smile at the mere mention of your name. "And we have a baby."

"Oh," Louis raises his eyebrows, happily surprised. "Congratulations! "

"Thanks! She's the joy of the house." Niall tells him but without looking his way, his sight lost in the sea of people. "She was born three months ago."

"It must have been incredible."

"It was." Niall laughs. "Everyone's happy."

"That's good to hear."

The man nods in appreciation, and then his eyes rest on a specific woman.

"Oh look, there she is."

They approach a black-haired woman. She has dark eyes too but a little shorter than them both. She smiles happily when Niall approaches and immediately plants a kiss on his lips.

"Liz, hi, love," he greets her afterwards and bends down to croon at the baby resting on her arms. 

"Hello," the woman says, drawing Louis' attention. "You must be Louis."

"I guess everyone knows me."

"Oh yes, Niall has told us about you." Liz laughs. "I am Liz, I'm happy to meet you. This is my baby girl, Leanne, but we call her Lea."

Louis leans in close to her puffy cheeks. He stretches out his finger and the baby picks it up in her small hand. "Hi Lea, I'm Lou. So happy to meet you."

The baby laughs with her small eyes fixed on him and Louis looks back at her, full of love.

"Oh would you look at that, she seems to like you." Liz tells him, smiling.

"Really?" Louis asks delightedly, making a small boop in Lea's nose.

Niall smiles at them and nods, before speaking again.

"Love, how about a drink? Let's take Louis around so he gets to know the place?"

"No, sorry I can't join you." She smiles. "I'm actually about to meet with Maura, we plan to call it a night. Lea needs to rest already."

"Okay." Niall agrees, kissing the baby. "I'll be home later."

"I love you," she says goodbye. "Bye, Louis."

"Bye, Liz." He smiles at her. "Bye bye, Lea."

The woman waves as she walks away. Louis keeps following Niall until they reach the bar. Taking in the place, Louis takes note that not one of the family members is anywhere to be seen. They decide to sit close to the bar, catching the attention of the waiter who promptly heads to their table and ask their orders. 

If Louis were somewhere else, he'll go for a cocktail and sip on it for the next two hours. However, he doubts that it's even on the menu. He goes for what's the most basic drink this place could possibly offer instead. "A beer is fine."

He's not beer's biggest fan, but the smile on Niall's face should be enough to endure it's sour and bitter taste. 

"Two beers it is, then."

"Make that three!" Liam's loud voice comes up from behind. He sits down next to Niall, giving a gentle thump on his arm and raising his hand to greet Louis for the second time.

"Okay, three."

"Four." That's Harry, who takes his place next to Louis and smiles widely at them. 

Louis sharpens his gaze on him and realizes that Harry's hat has disappeared and in it's place are the tousled curls that falls freely on his forehead, his cheeks red. Niall seems to have noticed too, narrowing his eyes and frowning.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex in my truck." Niall begs him, massaging the bridge of his nose.

Harry laughs. "If that makes you feel better, sure."

"God," This time it's Liam. "You're gross."

Louis immediately grabs his beer and drinks it so he doesn't have to contribute anything but watch. 

"Harry, you can fuck whoever you want," Niall says rather calmly. "But not in my truck, please."

Louis shudders in disgust at the idea of having sex with someone you barely even know and in somewhere as dirty as the back of a station wagon.

"But it's the family truck."

"Harry ..."

"Oh Niall, stop being so boring."

Niall lets out a laugh and assures them that he is far from boring to which Liam agrees with, claiming that one time, he caught Niall and Liz doing weird things and Harry playfully shakes his head in disbelief, smiling dimply.

Louis shifts uncomfortably because this heterosexual sex talk is certainly not his cup of tea. 

"Excuse me. I'm going to restroom." Louis stands, leaving his beer. "I won't take long." 

"Sure thing, Louis." Niall smiles, turning back to Liam to engage him in another discussion about what couples should do before marriage.

Louis jumps out of his chair and is about to make his way to the toilets when Harry's voice halts him in his steps.

"Your shoes."

Louis regards him with a frown. "What about them?"

"It'll get dirty."

"Sorry?"

"Just watch out for the mud this time. We don't want a repeat of earlier, do we?"

Louis turns to face Harry, taking two gentle steps towards him. Niall and Liam keeps on talking, too preoccupied with their topic to really care about what's going on.

"Have I done something to you?" He asks, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing Harry with sharp stare. 

But all Harry does is blink up at him in confusion. "What?"

"I said, have I done something to you? You've been nothing but a jerk to me since I got here." 

"I'm being a jerk?"

"I've been here for six hours and the few times we talk, all you do is laugh at my accent and make a dig about my shoes." 

"Louis," His name resonates from Harry's lips and Louis is distracted slightly at his accent. But Harry seems to have gotten bored of the conversation already because he turns his eyes somewhere else. "Stop taking everything so seriously."

"Why you..."

"Hm?" Harry cocks a sympathetic half smile.

"Oh, you know what," Louis pulls himself together, voice filling with sarcasm. "I get it. You're definitely just joking."

He walks away, not waiting for his reaction. He heads straight to the portable toilets he's seen earlier, and immediately thank his lucky stars when he sees an empty one. 

He relieves himself and snorts when he can't find any way to wash his hands, so he comes out rubbing his hands on his jeans - only to almost bump into a black-haired man who is looking at him with a smile.

"Hello. You're not from around here, are you?" The man says as he looks at him from head and toe. Louis wonders why everyone does that, it's beginning to frustrate him at this point. 

"Is it that obvious?"

"Want me to be honest? Yeah." The man laughs, showing him a row of perfect white teeth. "I'm Zayn by the way."

"I'd shake your hand but ..." Louis smiles but Zayn just smiles back and picks his hand anyway. "Oh well, have it your way then. My name's Louis."

"It's nice to meet you, Louis," he says and his amber eyes fixate on him. The guy is extremely handsome if Louis were to be honest, so he can't really be blamed if he blushes when Zayn gives him another once over. "Where are you from?"

"I'm English."

"Oh, that explains the accent." Zayn laughs a little and crosses his arms, his muscles clenching. "So what brings you here, Louis?"

Louis looks up at the sky and laughs because he doesn't know if his story will even sound true.

"Been asking myself that."

"Oh well." Zayn puts on friendly smile on his face. "I have a feeling you'll like it here. If you give this place a chance, you'll see that it isn't so bad."

Louis chuckles, "I really hope so." They gaze at each other then share a laugh, amused.

"Well then, I'll see you around."

Zayn gives him a wink before turning and entering the restroom Louis vacated earlier and all the while, Louis just gawk mindlessly at the closed door until someone interrupts him. 

"Got into flirting already, sweetheart?"

Louis chokes slightly when he sees it's Harry. Thinking it best to just ignore him, Louis turns to Niall. 

"Are we leaving now?"

"Yeah." Niall responds. "Do you want to go?"

"Yeah, of course."

Niall bids his cousins goodbye while Louis simply gives them a nod, wanting to get back to the house and sleep.

And if he's a bit lucky, he doesn't have to wake up at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis turns in his sleep and feels the quilt stick on his cheek like second skin. Still not finding the comfort he's sleepily looking for, he rolls again, one leg and his entire head ends up dangling dangerously out of the bed. Deep sleep visits him once more, but not for long. The roosters begin to wake and with them comes to incessant crows. 

Louis mumbles a series of curses, opening his heavy eyelids and finding himself face to face with an old cedar cabinet.

Louis sits up slowly, blocking his eyes from the hot sunrays coming from the window, and groans when he finds himself drenched in his own sweat. 

"Right..." He sighs heavily, finally having realized that he is no longer in his London home. 

He is used to waking up on his fluffy duvets. The temparature enough not to be too hot and not too cold. He would take his lovely time in the bathroom, indulging in a hot shower and styling his hair to his fancy. He would then step out with a cloud of steam following him until he reaches the kitchen to prepare and eat his breakfast. 

Louis' routine is nothing but perfect. However, it is pretty clear that the same won't be happening here. 

Last night, he has fallen asleep immediately, what with being so tired from the long travel and the festival. He's rather hoping that he'll be as tired tonight though. So he won't be stuck on a sleepless night with his thoughts and worries accompanying him all evening. 

Louis knows the possibility of evasive sleep is high however, he's been suffering from it for the last two years and even when he manages to fall asleep, a rerun of *that* dreadful night visits him in his dreams. 

Lost in his thoughts, Louis is suddenly alarmed when the door opens wide, a pair of eyes peers from the outside. 

"Good morning!"

"Hey...Anne," Louis breathes out, laying a hand on his chest. "You scared me."

"Oops, my bad. Sorry!" She smiles apologetically, her gaze traveling across the room and stopping at a small corner table. "Are those dirty?"

Louis follows her line of sight whilst taking off the heavy quilts from himself. With a frown, he runs a hand through his hair. 

"Uh, yes?" He answers, watching her take two steps to grab the dirty clothes. 

"I'll wash it for you." She says as she turns around and heads toward the door. 

But Louis gets up immediately, asking, "How do you wash your clothes here?" 

Anne smiles brightly at him and Louis envies her energy. She's probably around fifty, what with Harry looking close to his age, but her liveliness is hard to match. It's like she's been awake for more than five hours. Her hair is perfectly combed, not a hint of dark circles beneath her eyes, and she is neatly dressed in what Louis supposes to be her work clothes.

In short, Louis feels like shit next to her. 

"What do you mean?" She frowns a little, confused. Louis can't help but see the similarities between her and Harry, a guy he shouldn't be really thinking about right now. Or ever for that matter. "With a washing machine, of course."

"Uhm, Anne," Louis steps closer to her, putting on a confident but friendly smile. When he is close enough, he turns a little red, feeling rather embarrassed of what he's about to say, "The fabric on these clothes require a special kind of wash."

The woman raises her eyebrows and glances at the clothes in her hands, then returns her eyes to Louis.

"Louis, we are going to wash everyone's clothes here the same way we've been doing our entire lives." Her accent is a bit thick so Louis has to concentrate to understand what she has to say. "Cold water. Two hours spin."

Louis stares at her then sighs defeatedly. "Okay."

"Please try to get used to how we do things around here," Anne smiles and Louis follows her, saying his apologies. "It's okay. And oh, before I forget, there's no hot water."

"Pardon?"

"We only have cold showers here." Anne repeats, approaching a room that Louis hasn't seen yet. "After your shower, come to the kitchen and have some breakfast then you're free to choose from Niall, Liam and Harry who you want to help today."

Louis doesn't mind the cold shower at all. It's hot in Texas and it's eight o'clock in the morning, making it even hotter. 

What Louis minds though, is having Harry in the list of who he can join today. He looks at Anne, pleadingly. "Niall or Liam, please?" 

"Sure, whatever you want." She shrugs. "Do you want tea or coffee?"

"There's tea?"

"Of course." Anne smiles. "I love drinking tea as much as my Dad. But I only have it sometimes now. Everyone here would make jokes about how I want to look like I'm from the British Royalty."

Louis is a bit offended that they associate the concept of drinking tea for the elites only. However, he just keeps his opinions to himself and gives her a grateful smile. 

"Tea then, please."

Anne nods. "Do you want me to wash the clothes you're wearing now?" 

"Uhm, no, not really..."

Anne laughs good-naturedly, "Sure, sure," and just accepts that they don't share the same customs, in doing laundry at least. "See you in the kitchen later, Louis."

"Thank you."

Louis goes back in his room and pulls the curtain to block out the sun. One more day is one less day, he tells himself as he heads over his suitcase, picking up the first thing he sees. He settles for long jeans and a black sleeveless shirt that he doesn't remember packing.

He heads back into the hallway, the bathroom in mind, but a bush of blond hair crosses out of nowhere and they collide. 

Louis looks up, meeting eye-to-eye with a beautiful woman whose taller than him. She has a smile on her face that makes her sky blue eyes twinkle. 

"You must be Louis." She assumes because what other stranger would be roaming around in their home after all? She cocks her head, waiting for an answer, to which Louis nods in reply. 

Then she smiles and pushes a pair of black boots on his chest. "Here, take this so Harry won't laugh at your shoes anymore." 

Louis frowns, wondering how she knew about that. "How did you know?"

"I just do." She laughs, without giving him a proper explanation. "They told me you were short, so I just guessed your size. Is a forty, okay?"

"Ah, yes." Louis mutters, still wondering about it but chose not to dwell further. "Thanks, I guess."

"It's nothing." She says. "I'm Taylor, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Taylor."

"Same." Taylor smiles. "Hope things go easy for you."

"Do you mean the work or putting up with Harry?"

She turns around before leaving the hall.

"Both."

Louis nods and then examines the boots. They are black and medium high with white details on the top. Louis would probably look ridiculous in it, and honestly, he thinks that whatever footwear he dons and even if his whole attire is made up of denim, Harry would still find a way to make fun of him. 

He doesn't have enough energy to put up with Harry at all, so he throws the boots inside his room and makes his way to the bathroom. 

\----

Half an hour later, Louis goes down to the kitchen, his dirty clothes are perched on his right shoulder. Anne greets him with a raise of her brows and quickly pushes a cup of tea on his hands. All the while, she grabs his dirty clothes to, presumably, include in the running wash even when Louis didn't want it washed in the machine. 

"I know you wanted to go with Niall and Liam, but they went to town because of a problem with a sale." Anne tells him, an apologetic smile on her face. "They're all gone already, actually."

Louis gapes, brow creasing slightly. "Is my shower that long?"

"A little. But don't worry, you didn't miss them by much." She assures him with a smile. "It's almost nine o'clock, so they'll be back around ten to start working."

"Oh okay."

"How about helping Harry instead?" She suggests.

Louis has made it his life mission to stay as far away from Harry as possible. But here he is, unable to find the guts to refuse. How could he? They are basically giving him shelter from his problem even when they don't know about it. So with reluctance, he nods, setting the empty teacup aside. 

"Where is he?" Louis fakes a smile, hoping to all high and mighty that it comes off as genuine. 

"He's not far." Anne grabs the cup, refusing Louis' offer to do it himself. "Have you been at the back of the house?" 

"Yeah." He keeps the fake smile on, "If you can tell me where he is, I'll be on my way."

Anne smiles.

"Just follow the entire stable fence to your left. You're going to find a little grove, which will probably have alot of dried leaves."

"I can imagine, this heat is suffocating."

She sighs.

"I know," she purses her lips. "It must be more difficult for you since you're from a colder country."

"It's okay," Louis shrugs and then stands up, pinning the chair to the table. "I'll get used to it."

"Well before that grove," Anne adds. "You'll pass by the solar panels."

"Solar panels." Louis repeats, silent question hanging in the air. 

"It's Harry's idea," Anne looks proud. "It's been saving us a lot of money."

"Oh, okay. Got it. I'll be on my way then." Louis informs her before turning one last time to ask, "Are you going to stay here?" 

"I'm waiting for Maura."

Louis waves goodbye then leaves her behind. 

Anne couldn't be more accurate with her description, Louis thinks as he take in the row of solar panels. From what he can see, it looks like they are newly built by the way it shines. He keeps on following the fences, confident that he's taking the right path. The grass and earth that's sticking to his shoes, however, makes him second guess why he abandoned the boots Taylor gave him earlier - an idea he shakes off right away, thinking that wearing those boots would mean getting too engaged in this life. 

The door to the stables are open and a rather familiar hat is left hanging on a nail close to the door. Louis peers inside and finds himself with the view of Harry's wide back. 

He blinks as he walks closer, his stare gets stuck from Harry's contracting muscles down to his tight jeans that's held together by a belt. A few curls falls freely around his neck. 

Finding himself a bit speechless, Louis decidedly clears his throat to make himself known. 

At that, Harry turns and stares at him, getting up without much effort, his abs shamelessly on display. Finally getting a good look at him, Louis registers that Harry's chest and arms are inked but the butterfly on his upper stomach stirs his curiousity the most. Trying not to show that he's pretty impressed, Louis steps further into the shed. 

"My mother didn't tell me you were coming." It is the first thing Harry says in his characteristically rough voice and then his gaze blatantly wanders up and down Louis' body.

Louis has the sudden urge to run and hide in the fields until he starts rotting. But that would just be weird, right? So, he shifts on his feet and crosses his arms, feeling quite defensive. 

"Will you stop that?" Louis mentally cringes when his voice sounded more embarrassed than angry. 

Harry regards him with a raise of his eyebrow and hangs a towel on his shoulders without wiping the sweat off his forehead which is surprisingly bare due to his bangs being tied up in a messily-made toupee.

Louis hates finding this whole gross package appealing but it is what it is. 

"Why?" Harry cocks his head, showing his dimples. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

"If it's any consolation, I wasn't checking you out." Harry scoffs. "I was looking at your trainers that, from what I see, you never plan to change."

Louis looks down at his shoes. They are black adidas, resistant enough for the fields. Or so he believes.

"Who is wearing these shoes?" Louis raises his eyebrow and crosses his arms. He is so done with curly hair's verbal attacks. 

Harry licks his lips.

"You."

"Then let me wear whatever I want." Louis settles the discussion seeing how Harry still keeps smiling at his words. "Now tell me how I can help around here."

Harry cocks his head, shrugging and turning to go back to work.

"You could bring me a lemonade."

"And you could stop being a jerk." Louis retorts, fuming. 

"I could." Harry answers him. "But I won't."

"Then I'll just stay here." Louis announces, muttering an inaudible "asshole" when Harry didn't spare him a glance. He throws himself on the ground, back resting on the wooden frame of the door. "Sunbathing. Doing nothing."

A small laugh escapes Harry, making his muscles contract once more, and Louis berates himself for being unable to take his eyes away from Harry. 

"Seems about right."

"Fine."

Louis purses his lips in annoyance, snorting when Harry doesn't say anything else. If there's one thing Louis hates more than being imitated, it's being ignored. He sulkily taps his foot, arms crossed. 

This goes on for an hour, Harry going about his business and treating Louis like air. Louis, in return, keeps quiet, feeling like this is some sort of competition between them. To entertain himself, he crosses and uncrosses his legs and sometimes he looks at the sky. 

Bored out of his mind, Louis gives up and decides to be the first one to speak. 

"Hey," Louis calls, getting Harry to tilt his head to look at him sideways. "Can you take me to town this afternoon?"

"Don't you have legs or what?" He replies in the same mocking tone. Louis rolls his eyes and decides to insist.

"Please," he asks. "I need to call Marie."

"I still don't know how you knew Aunt Marie."

"Why are you so pressed about it?"

"She's family," Harry retorts. "I obviously care."

"She rented her house to me."

"There is something else there." He looks at Louis incredulously. 

"Fine," Louis sighs. "She's my boss."

Harry puts down his tool. For the first time of the entire hour, he turns to face Louis fully. He is still sweating, and the frown on his face deepens. Louis blinks at him, not understanding why he's so surprised.

"You worked in the flower shop." Harry says, without delving much further.

"Yes?" Louis responds as he looks for something to help him figure out what is going through Harry's head. And lo and behold, he has no idea. "Is that strange?"

"It just doesn't suit you." Harry shrugs and simply turns back to continue on his work. Louis doesn't understand what exactly is going on. 

He stands up from the ground and pats the dirt off his pants before standing behind Harry, arms crossed.

"And what suits me, exactly?" He demands, raising his eyebrow and waiting for the curly one to turn back and look at him. And there you go, he actually did turn around and stand, making their height difference obvious once more. This time, however, Louis stays his ground, defensive despite the scared gulp he just made.

"You said you hadn't done field work." Harry ignores Louis's question and stares him down with his green eyes, inspecting his face.

"And I haven't," Louis corrects. "Working with flowers is not exactly field work."

"But we have a sunflower plantation here."

"Oh?" He drops his arms in surprise. "There are actual sunflower fields here?"

Harry probably sees the glitter in his eyes and his eyebrows rise in curiosity, because he stretches out a - small, but visible - smile and nods slightly. Louis drops his lips, forming an "o" and sighing excitedly when he sees the Harry's affirmative answer.

"An entire plantation." He adds. "They are close to blooming ... we planted them this spring and the sun has been helping a lot."

"I love sunflowers." Louis confesses and doesn't even delve into the thought that, for the first time, he's having a real conversation with Harry. "It's what I loved most about working in the flower shop."

"You're lucky," Harry counters. "It is Niall who usually takes care of them."

"Lucky? Why?"

Harry shrugs and Louis pulls his eyebrows together, not understanding.

"Because you like him."

"Who says I dislike you?"

"Your eyebrows." Harry points to his face and Louis instantly relaxes his face - which doesn't go unnoticed by Harry, because a smile escapes him. "They close in together every time we talk."

"Maybe it's because you always make fun of me." Louis says softly, trying not to frown again.

"It's hard not to, Louis." Harry points out and then turns again, to continue his work.

"Why?"

"You keep bringing those shoes."

"Oh God," Louis exclaims, returning to his place on the floor. "Leave my shoes alone. Please."

"I wouldn't if you had put on the boots I gave Taylor for you."

"That's from you?" Louis asks him and cocks his head, noting the naughty and sweaty curls that slip into his crown.

Harry says nothing and Louis sees his muscles tighten in tension.

Louis doesn't need an answer.

An hour later, Louis sees Niall enter the shed and sighs in relief when he sees Liam too. He jumps to his feet and walks out, letting them talk to Harry. 

It's not that he's uncomfortable being with Harry. It's just that he can't read the man at all. Harry, most often than not, would laugh at him. Sometimes, he would just stare at Louis. On some occasion, he would be downright serious, and it's the last one that makes Louis the most nervous because he has no idea how to react properly. 

He takes a deep breath, waiting patiently until Niall comes out and approach him with a smile. 

"Ready to start learning?" He says while giving him a soft tap on the shoulder. Louis nods happily, aware that he can finally get away from here.

"Very."

"Then wait for Harry." Niall cocks his head, completely oblivious. "He's in charge of the chicken coops today and it's the easiest work 'round here. It's best if you start there."

Perfect, just perfect.

\----

Louis takes two steps back, quite horrified of the scene.

He has been following behind Harry without a word and the cowboy has led him to the chicken coops. 

There are four fences surrounding the entire place and the chickens scamper free. There are so many of them that Louis finds it difficult to make a mental count. 

"This is ..." Louis murmurs trying to find the right word when he sees Harry pull the key towards the lock. "huge."

"It is." Harry responds as he opens the door and quickly passes through the small crack, so the animals don't escape. Then he glances at Louis, silently asking him to do the same. 

"I ..." Louis stops himself when he meets the cowboy's raised eyebrow. "I don't know if..."

"Oh come on, they're chickens." The cowboy replies. "They don't bite."

"I know," Louis lies, not knowing anything about chickens other than they lay eggs and taste the best when marinated before throwing them in a pan. "But they're giving me..."

"They're giving you what, Lewis?" Harry asks, intentionally pronouncing his name wrong. "They are chicken. They're harmless."

"Says who?" Louis insists.

Harry looks up, probably asking for patience from Louis' ancestors or something. Whatever it is, Harry must have found it because he turns around completely and holds Louis hostage with a stare as he walks towards him slowly. 

And Louis is in a trance. How can those eyes get greener the more they stare? 

"Says me because I raised them."

Louis eyes a chicken suspiciously, seeing it innocently shake its head and crow. He bites his lips, cursing the Styles in his head. Ever since he arrived, all the family has done is throw him close to Harry, make him follow him around which in turn brings him in this coop. 

"Are you sure?" He asks unsurely, shifting on his feet. He gives Harry what he hopes to be a pleading look, hoping silently that he takes pity on him. 

Which does not happen, of course.

"I'm sure. You can trust me."

Oh well, what could possibly go wrong?

Five minutes later, he's running in circles around the chicken coop, one damn chicken hot on his heels. He just don't get it. He's done absolutely nothing. He is ordered to feed the chicken and that's what he just did. But apparently, a chicken has taken it as a personal attack and has decided to attack him back.

"Harry!" He shouts, side-stepping another hen to avoid hurting her. He barely registers Harry laughing despite it being too loud. Louis has the sudden urge to strangle him. "Please, just get this thing off me!" 

Louis thinks Harry will just let him run ragged. So he's a bit surprised when the cowboy expertly picks the chicken which escapes and pecks Louis on the calf. 

"Ouch!" Louis exclaims, clutching his leg. "You said they're harmless!"

"They are, Louis." Harry assures him as he picks the hen once more and push towards the others. "I've never seen them attack anyone. Well, except for you."

"Wow," Louis says in disbelief, brushing himself off. "Just wow."

But all he gets in reply is a hearty laugh.

"Don't be so mad, they're not that bad."

"Easy for you to say," Louis sasses, crossing his arms to stare angrily at Harry. "You're not the one attacked."

Harry bites his lip, stifling the laugh. He turns and makes his way to the chicken coop. "I'm telling you, they're not."

Louis shakes his head and speaks. "Yes, they are."

"If you're going to stay here, then you have to get used to them," Harry says, gesturing for him to follow.

"I'd rather not, if I'm being honest."

Harry raises a brow, questioning silently, then lets it go. "Look, they're now relaxed. Get closer so I can explain something to you."

"And why should I trust you? The last time I did, I almost got pecked to death." 

"Please, just let it go." Harry sighs tiredly. "I won't let them do that again."

"Wait a minute," Louis gapes, disbelievingly. "That means you could have avoided it."

"Yes."

"And you haven't."

"No."

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"I told you, you need to get used to it." Harry approaches him then, picking up his hand without asking permission, and strokes the skin where the chicken pecked him. "You don't even have a wound, you got nothing to worry about."

Louis looks up from his hand, searching Harry's eyes, and finds him already looking at him. 

"You're kinda nice..."

"I know."

"And stupid." Louis murmurs.

"I know that too," Harry laughs.

Louis sighs, dropping his hands. He is still scared but knows he has no more excuses left. He follows after Harry and finds himself back in the coop. 

"It smells bad in here," Louis comments, covering his nose the deeper they go. "Very bad."

"That's just normal," Harry replies, moving aside hays. "When chickens are alone, they establish their own heirarchy. Fighting and all that."

"That's disturbing..."

"Well, it depends on how you look at it." Harry finally reveals what he's been looking for in the hay - a nest, containing two lone eggs. He takes the nest on one hand without touching a single egg. "To have these, we got a rooster."

"I know, I saw one earlier." Louis announces proudly.

"Wow, Louis, congratulations." Harry says, sarcastic. "You did it the first time."

Louis pouts. "Jerk."

Harry laughs but doesn't reply.

"Each nest are separated because they need space to feel comfortable and to avoid fights, too." 

"Space. Okay, got it." Louis notes in his head as Harry holds a nest carefully. 

"Congratulations, Louis." Harry greets sarcastically, putting the nest back on the ground. "They drink a lot of water, so always make sure that they have enough to drink."

"I can relate," Louis says, biting his lips to hide a smile. "It's very hot here."

Harry laughs, dimples popping, and Louis stares for the two seconds it takes Harry to collect himself. 

"Well, that's almost it. I guess as you take care of them, new things will come out."

"As I take care of them?"

"The moment we taught you everything, you'll be added to the schedule." Harry walks past him, lightly brushing his arm and then stands beside the door, silently telling him it's time to go. "Are you good with that?"

Louis shrugs, passing through him, and out the door. "Sure. It's what I'm here for."

"This is what you're here for?"

Louis frowns, turning to look at Harry with a raised eyebrow. "What are you on about?" 

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't try to avoid the question, Louis." Harry says. "No one comes to this town for fun."

"I can't be an exception?"

"Please Louis ..." Harry laughs "I may not have the same level of studies as you are, but I'm not an idiot."

"I have nothing to say to that." Louis knits his brows. "Why do you always assume things about me?" 

Now it's Harry's turn to shrug, walking out the chicken coop, and not say anything else. Harry opens the door for him and so he follows, watching Harry as he closes the door silently. 

"Harry," He calls, insisting to get his attention. "Is this why you've been so against me? You just implied that I think less of you because you have no studies."

"I'm just trying to figure out why you want to be here."

"Stop changing the subject," Louis quips, shaking his head. "And I'm here because I want to, okay? Just let it go."

"You're living under my roof," Harry reminds him. "I need to know who I'm living with."

"You can know other things about me, but nothing beyond my personal life."

"Your personal life makes you who you are."

"You're right," Louis stays silent. "But it's still none of your business."

"Fine." 

Harry finally gives in, and Louis mentally thanks God, because if Harry had insisted a little more, he would have caved. And that's not the safest thing to do, not right now. "Do you still need me to take you to town?"

"Would you do that for me?"

"I still have things to do, but here you go," Harry pulls something out of his jeans and offers it to him. "I forced Niall to hand over that key so keep it safe. The truck is yours for the rest of the day."

"Oh Harry," Louis smiles gratefully, taking the key from Harry's palm. "Thank you so much. 

Harry smiles back and then bumps his shoulder into Louis's playfully.

"You're welcome, but come back soon, okay? And eat something before you go. Mom will kill me if she finds out that I let you go on an empty stomach."

"Okay," he repeats. "and thank you."

"I already told you it's nothing."

"No," Louis smiles the most and only genuine smile to Harry since they met. "I meant the boots. Thanks for the boots."

\----

Louis gets tomato soup and chicken drumstick for lunch, finding it hard to swallow due to the guilt of knowing where it came from. 

Lunch has been a quiet affair. It's only been him, Harry and Anne, and while they talk, Louis has spent his time reading the schedule attached on the corner of the kitchen. 

Today, Niall is to till the fields, Liam is to care for the horses, and since the chicken work is done, Harry has to take the sheeps and goats for a walk. 

Louis has a hard time keeping the laugh to himself after imagining Harry doing so. 

After washing the dirty dishes and cutlery, Louis goes out the ranch.

And here he is now, hitting the road with a tractor. 

He fiddles with the radio, trying to find a station that plays music other than country, and gives up, staying on the Sunflower Village FM which is currently doing a Dolly Parton Special. He doesn't mind really. He likes the singer and it isn't long before he starts singing to it. 

The road becomes enjoyable, if you ignore the small stones that bounce the vehicle on the road and shortly after, he is in the town square, the one where the taxi driver stopped and where the kind of festival took place. But now, it is completely empty. 

Louis enters a cabin, closes the door behind him, and goes to the phone. 

"Marie Pemberton, prefix 44, number 5209315829, London, UK."

"Name?"

"Louis."

"Give me a second."

Louis nods, aware that the operator on the other end of the line can't see him, and then lets the music on hold invade the silence for a few moments. He closes the guide and sets it aside, then loses himself in his shoes.

"You have been accepted, please wait while your call connects."

"Thanks."

Louis hears a beep, just before a voice well known to him comes through.

"Louis?"

"Marie!" He exclaims, listening as the woman laughs on the other side. "Oh, for God's sake. Hello, Marie."

"Hello, dear." She returns the greeting. "Why didn't you ask for the reverse charge directly?"

"I don't understand the prefixes here yet and I have no money." Louis grimaces and then leans against the wall, smiling slightly. "But let's not talk about that, please."

"Niall called me yesterday," she tells him. Louis assumes that it must be almost night there, and she is preparing to close the store. "I was just wondering about you."

"Yes, they didn't believe me ..." Louis remembers. "But everything is fine, I just started helping today."

"Where did you start?"

"At the chicken coops."

"That's easiest of the lot, dear. Work will get harder from there."

"I can do it." Louis says, confidence oozing about his newly-found knowledge of chicken heirarchy. "How is everything over there?"

"There's no news yet about Dylan." She informs calmly. "As soon as they know something, I will contact you."

"Okay," Louis replies, taking a calming breath. "How about you, Marie? How are doing? I miss you."

"I'm fine, Louis. Don't worry about me."

"That's difficult."

"Just don't." She laughs. "How's the heat?"

Louis snorts. "Today I woke up with all the sun hitting my face, an experience that I don't want to repeat again. And the farmhouse is very hot, added to that, it feels like there's a fireba—"

"The farmhouse?"

"Yes."

"Where are you sleeping, honey?"

"In the family home, where everyone sleeps." He responds, frowning. "Why?"

Marie cuts him off. "Why are you sleeping there?"

"Because a tree fell on your house during a storm last winter. I can't stay there apparently."

"Who told you that?"

"Harry."

"Oh Harry ..." She mutters under her breath, giggling afterwards.

"Why are you laughing, Marie?"

"Because that's a lie." The woman says without a beat and Louis frowns, almost as if those words had been a bucket of cold water on him. "But don't worry, Harry's just like that. He is surely behaving like an idiot."

"Yes." Understatement of the year. 

"Or well, you will see him as an idiot ... but as you get to know him, you'll see that he's nice. He's just a bit difficult to deal with."

Louis hums. 

"Uh, I have to go," Marie warns him and Louis hears a door open on the other end of the line. "But promise me you will take good care of yourself."

"I promise."

"Oh, and," She speaks again. "Don't even think about taking money out of that town, go a few towns over and withdraw from there."

The information is coming to him so suddenly that Louis has to blink a few times.

"Why?"

"Just to not show your actual location, is all."

"Thanks." Louis says sincerely. "I have to go. It was a relief talking to you, Marie, I'll be calling you."

Louis doesn't even let Marie say goodbye. He hangs up abruptly and leans his head against the cabin, breathing softly.

So, Harry has lied to him. With all the other things Harry's done to him, he isn't even surprised anymore. 

He sighs heavily and runs a hand across his forehead, trying to understand why Harry would do such a thing. There's just no reason for Harry to trick Louis into sleeping in the farmhouse.

For a minute or two, Louis has an episode of anxiety bubbling to the surface. His hands are shaking. He feels the sweat trickle him all over, chills overtaking. He must look crazed. He just can imagine it. 

But what he's not sure of is what's triggering it exactly. Is it the lack of development from his ex-husband's capture or Harry's unexplainable ill-treatment of him? 

He goes to the tractor and turns the ignition, securing himself with the seatbelt before lowering the window to get some air.

There's one thing he can check between his earlier question though —and that's to confront Harry. Just when he is about to start driving, Louis' stops upon seeing a familiar face outside the window. 

"Hey, Louis," Zayn smiles. 

Louis doesn't reply and gives him a glance instead. He must look terrible right now—and how he wishes no one sees him like this, with disordered breathing and watery eyes. 

But Zayn doesn't say anything, just keeps his face calm. "I see, you're still around."

"Yes, yes," he whispers, trying not to show that his nerves are on fire. "I had to make some calls."

"I'm so glad to see you," Zayn says sincerely, and Louis gulps, letting out a smile which probably looks more like a grimace. "Do you want to go for a drink?"

"Now?"

"Yeah," Zayn pats his hat gently, urging him out. "Let's grab a few beers."

"I-" Louis pouts. "I have things to do right now. How about tomorrow?"

"Oh sure." Zayn furrows his brows, but relaxes them when a smile takes over his lips. Louis envies how carefree Zayn is. "Is it okay if I pick you up?"

"That's perfect." Louis replies when he finally grab his wits. "I'll finish work around five."

"Where do you stay?"

"At Styles' farm." He answers back. "Do you know where it is?"

Zayn widens his eyes slightly. It's barely noticeable but Louis still did see it. 

"Sure," Zayn mumbles. "I'll be there."

"Okay," Louis grins at him in a vast attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll wait for you."

"Drive safe, Louis."

Louis waves him goodbye. "See you, Zayn."

Louis starts the car. This time, however, he changes his destination. 

Exiting a road out of town, he drives for a few hours, going four towns over to wipe his bank account clean. The bankteller has to put his thousands-dollar savings into two large envelopes, and Louis can't help but laugh when the teller jokes that they almost ran out of cash due to his withdrawal. 

When he arrives back at the farm, it's terribly late at night but the house light is still on. Louis bites his lip and parks the station wagon at the entrance, making his way through the small stones on the ground to get to the farmhouse. 

Once inside, he immediately hears people talking in the living room, so he crosses through the hallway, poking his head in, and he sees the whole family sitting in front of the television.

"Louis!" Anne is the first to see him, quickly getting up from the couch. "You're here! We're getting worried."

Louis sees the concern on her face and feels his shoulders drop, ashamed to have worried them. Louis whispers a weak sorry and she grabs him by the arms, her eyes questioning. 

"Are you okay?" asks Niall whose right behind Anne.

"Yeah," Louis answers without removing his eyes from Anne, not wanting to see Harry. He just doesn't have the energy to deal with his shit right now, or ever. He's going to be civil as long as possible—because the whole Styles family isn't to blame for Harry's shit. 

"I just had a bad day."

"Oh, Louis." Anne purses her lips in a line, a hand cradling his cheek like a loving mother would. "Okay, we get it. But don't ever disappear like that again, okay?" 

"Okay, I promise." He says in silent apology. In his peripheral vision, Louis sees Liz approach them.

"Shall I make you something for dinner?" She offers him, but Louis shakes his head.

"Thanks, Liz, but I'm not really hungry." Louis gives her a sad smile and then looks back at Anne. He takes the keys out of his pocket. "I refilled the tank."

Anne takes the keys, looks at them with a frown, then her eyes returns to Louis'.

"Did you drive far?"

"No," Louis lies. "I just saw that the wagon didn't have much gas left."

"Okay," Anne agrees. "Are you sure you don't want to eat something?"

"No, thank you." Louis forces himself to smile to calm down their obvious worry. "I'm going to bed now, if you don't mind."

"Of course not." Liz assures him right away. "Go get some sleep, Louis. You look beat." 

"Thank you."

"Tomorrow I'll make you some tea, okay?" Anne gives him one last squeeze on the arm, before retreating so he can make his way.

"Thanks, Anne."

Louis glances at everyone and greets them goodnight before making his way up to his room, not once looking at Harry. 

Either way, Louis gets nightmares still. Just this time, green eyes and curly hair are also there.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis sighs heavily and notices the sweat sticking on his skin. He must have toss around the sheets and take off his shirt in his sleep, judging how he's trying to disentangle himself from the mess on his bed. 

But true to his title of not being a morning person, Louis falls down the bed. 

Not that he is complaining, the floor is cool— a great temporary relief from the good old Texas heat. He allows himself a few seconds to indulge before he sits up and leans against the bed, his eyes landing on the boots. 

Louis already dreads the day. Not a single thing about Texas so far has given him a reason to like the place, except for being a good hiding place from his vengeful ex-husband.

Louis sighs, about to stand when the door bangs open. For the love of God, no one in here seems to know how to knock. 

"Taylor!" Louis exclaims when he sees his morning visitor. He gets up and draws the curtains to let the light in. "Do you always wake people like that?" 

"You're already awake though," she laughs and leans against the doorframe. Louis can't help but marvel how pretty she is— definitely the most lucky one in the family. 

"But I'm just about to get up," he reasons, walking towards her. 

Taylor doesn't look sympathetic at all. "You'll have to get used to it."

The longer he stays here, the longer the list of things he should get used to gets— the unbearable heat, the unapologetic invasion of privacy, the poor humor, and Harry. 

Of course, that stupid cowboy has a special place in that list. 

"For heaven's sake..." Louis whines, brushing the sweat off gis forehead. 

"You've only been here for two days, Louis. It's not that bad."

"Oh has it only been two days?" He answers sarcastically as he picks up the first shirt he finds from his suitcase. He covers his torso with it, feeling a bit uncomfortable and vulnerable letting Taylor see it. "Felt like two years to me."

"Stop being dramatic," Taylor jokes in her thick southern accent. "Come on, take a shower first before joining us for breakfast. 

"Thanks for pointing out that I smell bad."

"You'd be surprised to know how many people here smell worse than you do."

Louis laughs softly. "I really wouldn't be."

"That's a bit offensive to be honest with you." 

"You'll just have to get used to it." Louis winks, making Taylor laugh. "By the way, why didn't you tell me it was Harry who gave me the boots?"

Taylor's smile falters, looking a bit surprised which she quickly tries to cover. Louis begins to wonder if she's hiding something but chooses not to comment about it. 

Taylor sighs. "I had a feeling you wouldn't even look at it if it were from him."

Louis purses his lips in a thin line. He can't exactly blame Taylor. He did appear to not like anything that involves the stupid cowboy. "If you told me he sent them, I would have put them on." Still that's what informs her sincerely. 

Taylor cocks her head, internally biting her cheek. Louis can't tell if she's doing it to relax her nerves or because she's trying to hide a smile. Whatever it is, she just nods at him. "Good to know, anyway."

After that, she leaves the room.

Louis glances at the boots. I would have put them on, he repeats in his mind.

But not today.

After a much needed shower, Louis decides that it's high time to face the family. He isn't particularly ecstatic about it, especially seeing Harry, but Louis can pretend to be fine with it. Hopefully. 

When he gets to the dining room, he sees everyone seated. The smell of coffee and toast fills the air and his eyes roam curiously across the table, his stomach roaring in response.

Anne is the first to turn to him and smiles. She looks to be really happy to see him and he can't help but be quite touched. 

"Good morning, Louis." 

Everyone turns to look at him and the room is suddenly filled with their collective greetings to which he dutifully returns one by one, except Harry who didn't even bother to look at him in the first place. 

"Tea or coffee?"

Louis smiles at Anne as he takes his a seat, but before he can reply, Niall snorts.

"Aunt, for God's sake. Tea? Really?"

"What's wrong with tea? It is a just another drink." She raises a brow. 

Maura clicks her tongue disapprovingly at Niall while her husband stays quiet. 

"If Louis drinks tea, then I will make him tea."

Taylor laughs at Niall being scolded like a child and Liz smiles at Louis approvingly. 

"I think Louis has his own hands, mom." Harry cuts in and Louis wastes no time to meet his eyes— only to be met with a smirk. 

It is clear that he's baiting Louis to react again. But nope, that's not going to happen, so Louis averts his eyes and ignores him— completely missing the clear confusion on Harry's face

"Leave him alone." Anne shushes, putting an immediate stop to the laughs. "It's tea then?"

Louis smiles weakly, embarassed, and shakes his head no. "I don't feel like it, Anne. But thank you for the offer."

"Harry is a bully. Just don't listen to him." Anne refuses to back down. She goes to the open shelf and prepares the kettle. "I'll make you some."

Louis gives Anne a shy smile, but doesn't look at Harry again. 

He relaxes when the tea is in his hands and then he just listens to the family talk about cattles and town gossips. At one point, he just stops paying attention and his mind wanders back to London where Dylan is possibly pulling strings to find him. He sighs and notices Bobby staring at him.

"Well Louis," he says, rather rough. Louis hasn't talked to him much, but he looks like a good man. He always looks at Maura sweetly and has genuine smiles for everyone. "What were you doing in London?"

Louis knows this conversation will happen soon enough. He feels a bit like a specimen under a microscope though and wants to sneak away, hating to be the center of attention in any situation. 

"Uhm," Louis removes his lips from the mug, hoping to God that no one notice how nervous he is. "I worked for Marie in her flower shop."

"What a good woman." Anne smiles, reminiscing. "She used to sneak us cold drinks because Dad didn't like us drinking them. Do you remember, Maura?"

"How can I forget?" The other woman agrees, laughing. "We adored her."

"Then she met her husband who was traveling in town and decided to go after him. To this day, she only visits us once a year." Anne tells Louis and he nods in interest. He will always want to hear anything about Marie - the only real support he has had for as long as he can remember. "Did you get to know Hank?"

"No, sadly." Louis responds sincerely, pursing his lips together. "I've worked in the shop for four years, when I started she's already widowed."

"What did you do before?" It is now Liz who asks, looking intrigued. Louis doesn't know her thoroughly either, he just knows she's sweet enough that her words were never meant to offend him. "Did you study something?"

"Probably." Harry answers for him, resting his hand on his chin and stroking it. "He acts like a good college boy."

"Oh come on Harry," Taylor jumps from across the table, turning to face her cousin with the intent to defend Louis. "Is having studies now a personality we don't know?"

"Yes," Niall looks at his sister, laughing. "I would say yes."

Louis is starting to feel bad, simply because they talk about him like he's not there. He doesn't know if he should be offended or not.

"And where do you base that?" Liam speaks for the first time since Louis has arrived at the table. "In town there are many people who have studied to be at their jobs ... Your uncle, for example."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Maura cuts them off. "Stop making Louis uncomfortable."

"It's alright." Louis calms her with a soft smile, even though he isn't feeling quite calm himself. He addresses Liz, intending to answer her initial question. "Yes, I studied fine arts."

He hopes his voice comes off as humble enough, not wanting to give Harry anymore reason to think Louis feels above them for being able to go to college. 

Louis is born from a wealthy family.   
And like any rich person, he loves branded clothes and adores the extravagant lifestyle— but never did he humiliate neither despise someone for being of lower class than him. 

But he's not going to deny that Harry is a bit right ... almost all of the wealthy class live up to stereotypes, but Louis hates being identified as one.

"Oh," Taylor murmurs, surprised. "Are you a painter?"

Louis giggles, "Nope."

"You took fine arts but don't know how to paint?"

"No, I do know how, but when I graduated I worked in an art gallery. You know, I was more inclined towards cultural activities."

"What did you do?" Taylor asks again, resting her chin on her open palm and giving him a curious look.

"We did tours, we explained the works, we helped with the new exhibitions ..." Louis remembers with a touch of nostalgia. "It was great, until I was fired."

"Then you met Marie." Anne assumes.

"Yes, and she gave me work."

"Then you're good at flowers then." She says again. "You should go with Harry to the crops."

Louis wants to say that growing and making bouquets of lilies is not exactly the same as tending to crops, but he's trying to improve his image here so he settles for a smile. "Okay."

No, it's not okay.

It's about half an hour later when everyone goes to work, and only Louis and Harry are left on the table. Louis seems to find his feet interesting— a cup of tea still in front of him and not once did he glance at Harry.

Perhaps Louis is being too much, considering that Harry isn't even aware of his anger to begin with. But the rage is still bristling in his chest and he has a hard time getting rid of it because he can't find any explanation on why he is lied to. 

Louis doesn't dislike sleeping in the farmhouse, he's not really as demanding as he thought he would be. But he would be better off in Marie's house. 

In there, he would be alone, wake up to the alarm, make as many tea as he wanted, bathe at ease and lie on the sofa to watch TV when nightmares start to bother him. 

Yes, it would be so much better. 

"Let's go?" Harry clears his throat and asks, getting Louis to raise his eyebrows at him. "Or would you rather just sit here, doing absolutely nothing?"

"You don't have to wait for me."

"Actually, I do," Harry contradicts him calmly. He doesn't seem to notice the hard look Louis has on him though. "We have to go together."

"Fine."

"Do you know how to ride a horse?"

"A horse?" He repeats confused, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, you know," Harry replies, a small smile blooming on his lips. "That animal that has four legs, is large and usually takes you to places ..."

"Yes, asshole, I know what a horse is." Louis doesn't return his smile. "I mean, why are you asking?"

"Because to go to the crops, young man, we need a horse." Harry picks up his hat from the table, placing it atop his curls. 

"Can't we just walk?" Louis asks, making an effort to get up from the chair.

"Would you rather walk thirty minutes and another to go back?" 

"I wouldn't mind, actually."

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and challenges Harry with his eyes. But we are talking about a man who leads a herd of goats, spends the entire working day in the sun, is six feet tall and has the deepest voice he has ever heard. So of course Louis doesn't intimidate him one bit. 

"Too bad, because it won't happen." Harry responds, without any challenging tone in his voice. "Let's go."

"Really?" Louis mutters in defeat, letting his arms finally drop to his sides.

"Really, Louis." Harry deadpans. "Please, we've wasted half an hour here already, can we go?"

Louis nods defeatedly. He has no more excuses, so he takes two steps towards Harry, who is calmly waiting for him, and once they are both together they begin to make their way towards the door. Harry holds it open for him, as always, and then he just goes off to the side. They enter a small path to the right of the beginning of the farm - where he has not yet had the pleasure of going - and soon, they reach the stables.

"Here it is." Harry tells him once they both stand in front of the big wooden door. He takes a key out of his pockets and fits it into the lock easily. "Some horses are gone," he says, once they enter. "They must have taken them."

Louis frowns as he passes under the arch and they meet the inside.

"Oh," he murmurs. "But there are still many here."

"Just one per person." Harry laughs, making his way across the hall, listening to some horses whinny at their arrival. "Come here." 

Louis heeds and escorts him to the final stable, which is significantly larger than the others, and soon collides with eyes gleaming in one corner. 

"It's a colt," Harry tells him, opening the door that separates them from him so they can both enter. The animal quickly reacts and stands up on its thin little legs to greet them. Harry laughs openly and pulls something out of his back pocket to feed it. "This one is not more than five months old."

"Oh," Louis sighs again, dazzled by the foal and gently approaches it. "May I?" He asks, connecting gazes with Harry and sees him nodding calmly. Harry picks up his hand to place it over the animal's fur. Louis blushes, feeling Harry's hands on his, but relaxes when he caresses the animal calmly. "It's beautiful."

"It is." Harry nods with a smile and his eyes are bright. Louis admires them for a second, aware of how much Harry loves the lifestyle he leads. "But this one doesn't have a name."

"What do you mean it doesn't have a name?" Louis exclaims under his breath - so that the animal is not frightened - and then returns his gaze on it, caressing it again. "You need a name."

"Clearly, they need one." Harry agrees with him. "If you spend enough time here, it will be yours, so you can choose a name for it."

"Own?" Louis hesitates, looking at him again.

"We all need a horse to move around the farm." He tells her. "You're no exception, Louis, as much as you would like to believe that."

"I don't believe anything." He sighs again, breaking the gaze, but decides that he does not want to fight so he softens his tone and returns to the initial topic. "But I don't know how to ride a horse."

"You will learn," Harry tells him, rising above the door and silently indicating that it's time to go. "It's all about practice."

"I hope so." He murmurs to the colt more than Harry and then says goodbye to it to follow the cowboy. 

"Wait outside if you want," Harry asks him. "I'm going to get Jade out."

Louis waits outside without a word until Harry goes out with a beautiful mare in tow. Her fur is pure white and her hair and tail are perfectly combed. 

"She's very tall." Louis says. "I don't even know how I'm going to be able to ride on it." 

Harry frowns and then raises his eyebrows in a clear suggestive gesture, getting Louis to cough quickly and shake his head repeatedly, almost offended. 

"Louis ..."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Harry, you know perfectly well what I'm referring to." 

"Really?"

"Really." Louis responds, starting to blush. "Now, teach me how to go up there."

"Louis," Harry laughs, circling what's left and positioning himself in front of him. "You just have to put your left foot on the stirrup and jump. Look, I'm going to go first ... once I'm up, I'll help you, okay?"

Louis nods and sees him do exactly what he said. Harry jumps on the mare breezily. The animal neighs softly and Harry nuzzles its ears, thanking him. Then he turns and looks at Louis, offering his hand.

"Oh, it's fine." Louis accepts when he understands that he is going to help him and picks up the cowboy's hand, following the steps. Harry pulls him up and Louis manages to focus on the mount, getting just behind Harry. "Good," Louis murmurs. "I have not died trying."

"You're exaggerating..." Harry scoffs, shaking his head and then fumbling for Louis's hands, picking them up soon after and encircling his own waist. "Brace yourself and don't let go or you'll fall."

Louis sighs as Harry's scent seeps into his nostrils and he clenches his hands into a fist against Harry's abdomen. His chest is gently brushing against the cowboy's back and he doesn't even seem to flinch when he picks up the horse's reins in his hands.

"Okay, Louis, now he's going to start walking ..." Harry warns him, the vibration of his voice rumbling and his muscles stiffening from the action. Louis notices them under his hands, pressing and blushing involuntarily, silently thanking that he can't see his face. "Don't be scared, okay?"

"All right."

The horse begins to walk smoothly, causing Louis to tighten his grip.

"Don't worry, that's just normal..." Harry reassures him. "We are riding a living animal after all."

"Yes, yes," Louis murmurs, calming down. "It's just kind of weird."

"Let's talk about something so you get distracted." Harry suggests and Louis can't see it, but he knows he has a smile on his face. "Tell me, what was it like working with Marie?"

"Well ..." Louis sighs, remembering. "She's great."

"I guess so," he says. "We don't see her much ... she only comes once a year, you know, because she has her whole life there and is already very old for long trips. But the few days she spends here are very good."

"She had never told me about this before, you know?" Louis tells him. "I mean, I remember that she used to take a couple of days, and I take care of the flower shop ... but she never told me she has a family here."

"And what changed that?" Harry asks, curious.

"I needed to get out of UK." Louis confesses, not entirely, clearly, but he's already letting go of some information. "A change of scenery, something different."

"And you thought a farm was a good choice?"

"Well, clearly it is." Louis laughs. "I'm not used to any of this, it's something new, different."

"Life here is easy, if you let yourself enjoy it." 

"Do you?"

Harry shakes his head as the horse turns to the left. Louis moves himself a little more on Harry, simply to secure his posture a little more.

"I like living here, it is the lifestyle I have decided to have ... I am not settling, I am choosing it."

"Good point."

"I had the opportunity to go study abroad, but I decided to stay here."

Well, that surprises Louis.

But he is not going to admit it out loud.

"What did you want to study?" Louis asks, curious.

"International Business."

"Wow."

"I know." Harry laughs, shrugging it off and then the horse stops softly. "Well, here we are."

"It was short."

"No, it wasn't." Harry withdraws Louis's hands with a softness never seen before in him and then turns his head on his shoulder. "I'll help you down."

Louis nods, running his leg over the horse and ends up sitting to one side. Harry stretches out his arm for Louis to grab onto him and then jumps gently. His feet itch a little and Louis bites his lip, listening to Harry get off the horse behind him.

"Here is the cultivation." Harry says from behind, causing Louis to drop the sight of his feet and raise his eyes, encountering acres upon acres of cultivation. "As you can see, they are already quite grown."

"I've never seen so many watermelons before." Louis laughs, placing his hand on his forehead so he can see beyond what the sun allows.

"We are already in high season." Harry turns to the site, glimpsing at everything. "What I need is for you to take care of the irrigation."

"Irrigation?" Louis asks confused, positioning himself next to him. "What do I have to do, exactly?"

"See if it works properly." Harry explains. "You know, slice by slice."

"Oh, I mean, I have to walk all over the plantation and just monitor if the irrigation is going well."

"Not the entire plantation, Louis, that's huge." Harry laughs. "Stay on this plot."

"It's big, too."

"Not as much as the entire plantation."

"Okay," Louis accepts. "I can do this."

Harry warns him that he is going to another nearby plantation, the one with sunflowers, just to verify that everything is going well. Louis nods and watches him go, just before he begins his work. He looks at his black sneakers, thinking about Harry's boots, and he dissipates his thought when he begins to enter the ground, looking piece by piece and verifying that it works correctly.

Approximately four hours later, a horse neighs on the road next to the crops and Louis sees Niall. The man stretches out his hand in greeting and Louis runs through the watermelons, until he reaches him.

"Uh, hi, Niall," Louis greets, stepping into the dirt outside of the crop and wiping his sweaty forehead. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm going home," Niall points away and Louis nods at him. "But what are you doing?"

Louis frowns when he notices the confusion on Niall's face.

"I'm checking the irrigation."

Niall cocks his head, puzzled.

"Why would you do something like that?"

"You have to check it up and down, right?"

"No?"

"Sorry?"

"Who told you that you have to do that?" Niall removes his hat, so he can stare at him from above the horse and emphasize his words. "Louis, the watermelons are in their last stage. When they are ripening they need very little water, you can even cut the watering if you want. Also, it is automatic, it rarely fails."

Louis rubs his hands on his pants, trying to get some dirt off, and then sighs, realizing what's really going on.

He is going to kill Harry. He really will.

"Do you know where Harry is?"

"How long have you been here, Louis?"

"About four hours," he says. "And I need to talk to Harry about something."

"Uh, sure," Niall reluctantly accepts. "I think he's in the house, waiting for Liam to come back from town."

"Thanks Niall." 

Louis gives him a small bow and then turns to start the way to the house, but the horse rings after him.

"Come up, Louis," he says. "I'll take you."

Louis doesn't even complain, rage building in his chest and he jumps quickly, surprising himself with the agility he shows. He grabs onto Niall's waist, doesn't complain when he starts jogging and they're running fast. Trying to control his breathing, so that anxiety does not start to flourish and in the blink of an eye, they are in front of the villa.

"Louis," Niall calls out to him once the horse has stopped, turning his head so that he can watch him get off. "Don’t be too hard on him."

"Niall ..." Louis sighs as he hits the ground, resting his hand on his forehead. 

"I understand you, it was a really shit thing to do but ..." Niall turns the horse and looks askance at him. "Please?"

Louis lets out a sigh and then, reluctantly, he nods, receiving a half smile from Niall.

He turns when the two say goodbye, and circles the entire house to reach the entrance. 

Niall ends up being right, Harry is leaning on the fence in the front garden. He is wearing sunglasses that Louis has never seen before and facing the road.

"You!" Louis exclaims, raising his hand to the air and watching Harry turn to look at him with a frown. He takes two big steps towards Harry and stands in front of him. "For heaven's sake, Harry, I know you're an asshole but this has simply crossed every fucking line there is-"

"Louis," Harry cuts him off, leaning away from the fence and looking confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You do know what I'm talking about."

"Oh," His eyebrows knit together. "So you know."

"Of course I know! Do I really look that stupid to you?" Louis spits, his gaze heavy with hatred. "I've been fucking around for four hours like an idiot, I don't even understand the fucking purpose of all this. Are you screwing with me? Is that it, right? I clearly want-"

"Louis," Harry cuts him off. "Breathe."

"Don't you dare laugh," he says under his breath. "Please don't laugh or I'm going to explode."

"I'm not laughing."

"You do," Louis chides him. "You always do!"

"What do you mean by always, Louis?" Harry grimaces. "You've been here for three days."

"Exactly!" Louis raises his arms in exasperation. "I've been here for three fucking days, so can you tell me what I've fucking done to you?" Louis drops his shoulders, defeated and exhausted from this pointless war. "I haven't done anything to you, Harry, and you always make me feel like I'm stupid. I'm so tired of this shit."

"Louis," Harry reaches out to grab his shoulder, but Louis takes a quick step back. "It was just a joke, you really shouldn't be taking it so badly."

"Does five hours of walking cluelessly through a watermelon field sound like a joke to you?" Louis reproaches him. "You always do that, huh? You take advantage of me not knowing things here so you could make a laugh out of it." He shakes his head, letting out soft sighs, clearly irritated by everything that has to do with Harry right now. "You complain that I treat you as if you were less than me because you haven't finished your studies, but you laugh at things that I don't know how to do because, obviously, I've never been working in the fields."

"Okay, maybe-"

"And I'm doing my best, okay?" Louis interferes again. "And you're not even letting me show you that I'm capable. You're a fucking hypocrite! "

Harry freezes and Louis instantly regrets his words. Whenever his anxiety gets the better of him, he loses control of the things he says—and when he does, it's already too late and all he can do is take a few steps back and cover his face for the impending blow. 

But no fists are thrown— just a Harry who is frowning at him, clearly puzzled. "Are you calm now?" Harry asks cautiously. 

Louis gulps, a bit put out that not a trace of anger can be seen on Harry's face. 

"It's okkay, Louis. Is there anything else you want to say?"

"You lied to me."

"Me?" Harry asks, confused.

"Yes, you have which makes everything worse, and I'm feeling awfully bad right now, you know? My chest is starting to hurt so please-" Harry tries to get closer to him, but Louis escapes from his hands. "No, no, no. Please don't touch me, Harry."

Harry strides forward but keeps his hands to himself despite being too close. 

"I didn't lie to you." Harry repeats and Louis meets his eyes, feeling the bile on his throat.

"Leave it, Harry," Louis withdraws gently, regretting it. "It doesn't matter."

But Harry still took an instinctual step forward, watching Louis hunch into himself defensively. "Louis, I hate being called a liar."

"I told you it doesn't matter." Louis retorts.

And Harry is about to say something else, but a beep echoes through the farm entrance and they both look towards the road. Zayn Malik is in front of the house, riding an old black Corolla, and he raises his hand behind the window, greeting Louis.

"I have to go."

Louis intends to make his way so he can start down the stairs, but Harry's voice interrupts him again.

"Are you sure you want to go with him?"

Louis's gaze travels from Harry to Zayn, who is still giving him a smile, and then returns it to the cowboy.

"I am."

"Oh," Harry steps aside. "Okay."

When Zayn's car leaves his sight a few hours later, he turns to look at the farmhouse. All the lights are off, except for the one in the living room, which stands out above all others. It must be barely eleven and Louis frowns, puzzled. It is not as if he knows the sleep schedule of the entire Styles family, but the night before they had been in the living room for hours, while he tried to fall asleep. 

After crossing the stone path and opening the door, Louis walks across the hallway and pokes his head through the threshold that separates the room from the living room, meeting Taylor sitting on the sofa. She is wearing some sort of red and white checkered pajamas, has a bowl of ice cream in front of her, as well as an ashtray - in which a cigar is being consumed - and her legs tucked up on the sofa.

"Good evening, Louis." She greets him from her place, giving him a smile and then returning her sight on the TV. Louis steps inside, curious about whatever is getting her full attention, and takes two long strides to the sofa. "Come and sit."

He nods, knowing that Taylor can't see him, and then drops to the side. He carefully takes off his trainers, setting them aside, and then blinks in front of the TV. It shows a couple, who is talking about their relationship.

"What's it about?" He asks, glancing at her. 

"Couples who are put to the test, you know, the usual reality shit."

"If it sucks why do you see it?"

Taylor laughs softly.

"Because it is entertaining."

"Hmm."

"By the way," It is this time that she takes her eyes off the screen and focuses entirely on him. Her light eyes inspect him for a second. "What happened to Harry?"

"How do you know something happened?" He asks, puzzled.

"Niall told me that you're looking for him, after that I saw Harry come in angry." The blonde informs him, raising an eyebrow at the end of the sentence and then cocks her head, trying, perhaps, to decipher something on Louis's face.

"Okay," Louis lets Taylor take over, his shoulders dropping gently and his gaze turning a little sadder. "He is an asshole."

Taylor laughs loudly, closing her eyes for a few seconds and then nods, still with the humorous tone set on her lips.

"I know," She agrees with him. "He's my cousin. You know, I've been putting up with him all these years."

"The thing is, he had me watch the irrigation system piece by piece like an idiot." Louis tells her, dropping his head on the back of the sofa and giving her a tired look. "I've been at it for at least four or five hours, until Niall found me."

The blonde shows a hint of a smile, which she tries to hide. Louis doesn't blame her because, well, he'd laugh too if it wasn't about him. The idea of someone looking inch by inch for an automatic risk system is just so funny.

"What he's done is really shitty, I know." Taylor agrees, then put his lips together to nod seriously. "But I don't think he did it to bother you ... I think he's just trying to test you."

"Test me?" Louis exclaims, biting his lower lip afterwards - because he has realized that he has screamed too loudly. Taylor smiles at the gesture, but keeps her gaze on him, letting him know that she's waiting for him to keep talking. "So according to you, his test is to keep me walking until I got blisters on my feet. Wow, Taylor, good point."

The blonde giggles at his sarcasm. 

"Don't be like that, Louis." She says. "He's trying to figure out if you'd last. Harry can be a brute at times, but he does things for a reason."

Louis wants to talk to him about Marie's house and ask him why he could have done something like that. But he prefers to keep quiet, because he doesn't even know how he is going to handle the information. 

"Let's stop talking about him, please." Louis asks him, quietly, and he turns to settle on the sofa and watch. "I'm getting a headache."

Taylor laughs and then nods at him, ending the conversation. She offers him tea and Louis accepts, surprised when she brings another cup for herself. Thus, they immerse themselves in the program: Taylor tells him the story of all the couples, the main dynamics of the reality show, the tests they face, and the problems that have occurred before. Louis laughs a lot and Taylor seems really pleased to have someone to share that moment with, no matter how small.

Louis never had real friends. Many people have come and go in his life, study colleagues, co-workers, neighbors, store employees he frequented, a customer who went to the store almost every day, an occasional person with whom he went out with for coffee, but they're only that: acquaintances- and they didn't have much place in his life when he was with Dylan. 

He has never found anyone with whom he can vent completely without fear of being judged. But Taylor has that kind of vibe that makes you trust her, so he's comfortable around her.

It is about half an hour later, when the show is about to end, that laughter sneaks all over the place and the door bangs against the wall. They both look at each other and Louis frowns at her, who doesn't even seem surprised. Taylor sighs a little heavily as footsteps span the hallway and two figures hover above the threshold. 

Niall has his arm around Harry's neck, who in turn has him by the waist. The two carry a smile on their lips, mixed with indecipherable murmurs and an uncoordinated steps.

"Don't even bother, Louis," Taylor advises him, turning back to the television. "This happens every Friday."

Louis accentuates his gaze on them, seeing how they are looking at him. Niall looks really happy, despite his half-closed eyes and dark circles under his eyes. Harry has tousled curls and his eyes are shining before him.

They are extremely drunk, and they don't even bother trying to hide it.

"Hello guys!" Niall greets them vigorously, the words stuttering on his lips as Harry laughs at it and pushes him against the chair closest to the television. Niall looks like he's going to say something else, but then he falls against the backrest and starts snoring.

"This again, Harry?" Taylor reproaches him as he sits on an empty sofa. 

But Harry ignores her, and instead bring his green eyes on Louis.

"How was your date?" Harry asks, a smile crossing his entire face, as if they hadn't had a fierce discussion just a few hours ago. He seems genuinely interested, raising his eyebrows at him. "Is he your type of boy, then?" 

"Why would you want to know?" It is Louis who speaks, cutting off Taylor's intention to answer for him. "What's it to you?"

"It's to know if I have chances on you." Harry shrugs and smiles petulantly, his dimples gracing his entire face.

"Oh, I'm telling you," Louis laughs. "Your chances are zero."

"Still very self-centered," Harry leans back on the couch, resting his chin on his index finger and cocking his head at him. "That is a real turn off, darling."

"None that I care."

Harry snorts.

"You don't know what you're missing."

"Can you let go of your, clearly failed attempt to flirt with Louis and tell me why the hell have you let this happen again?"

Taylor's voice completely catches Harry's attention, causing them both to break the strong connection of their gazes and Louis to duck his shoulders, abandoning his defensive posture.

"Don't, Taylor. I'm too drunk for this." Harry says, letting his smile drop. "I can't make him do anything, he's an adult. If he doesn't want to drink, that's fine, if he wants to do it until he passes out, then I'll be with him."

"He has a wife, Harry," Taylor reminds him ruefully. "And a baby who is not even four months old. As her godfather, you should watch over that girl."

"And I do," Harry fends off the knife, his muscles responding to tension and his jaw clenching. "I take care of her like she's mine. Don't even think about going down that road, Taylor."

"It doesn't seem like you do," She keeps digging her finger into the wound, despite seeing that her cousin is starting to get mad. Anger and alcohol are not exactly the most compatible things, and Louis and his body, sadly, know this first hand. "Not when you allow his father to be fucking alcoholic every night instead of being home with his family, which is where he should be."

"Liz is there."

"Why should all the work fall on her?" Taylor raises her hands, trying to prove a point and is clearly offended. "Why the hell do you men still think that women should do absolutely everything? She is the one who always makes sure that Leanne is clean, cared for and on a full stomach, and yet, in return, she gets a cold bed because her husband is passed out somewhere. "

"You're saying things that have nothing to do with this. You know that I don't think that about women."

"It doesn't look like it, cousin." Taylor replies and then turns to Louis, looking at him. "And don't be offended, Louis, but all men always act the same. You know, they do all the shit they want without thinking about the consequences, even when you've clearly needed his penis to have that baby. And then they come with that sad face and they try to ask you to forgive them, only to do the same thing over and over again."

"Oh," Louis whispers with an amused smile, despite the heaviness that is building in the room. "That doesn't even bother me, it's the truth."

"So you're with Taylor too," Harry says, fixing his gaze on him. "Should I be surprised?"

Louis shrugs, not knowing if he really should speak.

"Do you really want to know my opinion?"

"Sure!" Harry totally leaps off the couch and claps his hands, then raises his hands in ironic invitation. "You are the one with the most studies here, you know, the most intelligent. Perhaps you could enlighten us with your great British wisdom."

"British wisdom?" Louis frowns. "Does that even exist?"

"In his mind, yes." Taylor whispers with a chuckle.

"I think ..." Louis ignores the smile he wants to see from Taylor's comment and then turns to Harry. "I would like my husband to be 100% involved in our children, just like me."

"Have you ever had a husband?" Harry inquires. "Do you even know what marriage is?"

"What makes you think I don't know?" Louis grimaces at him. "Just because you can't stand me, do you think there is no one who can? And for your information, I have had a husband." Louis says without further ado, simply to shut his mouth for the first time. And he succeeds, Harry loses his smile and frowns at him, his green eyes inspecting him completely. "And you don't want to ask where he is if you don't want to accompany him."

"Oh my gosh, Louis ..." Taylor lets out a laugh, hiding her smile behind her hand.

"Sure, Louis. You win this one." Harry responds by defending himself from the blow and gets up from the couch to leave - but Louis and Taylor are laughing softly, so he turns for the last time. "Fuck you both."

"Don't be mad, cousin," Taylor calls out to him, watching him climb the stairs. "Come on!"

But a soft slam is heard and then Louis shakes his head, smiling, when Taylor looks at him.

"Anyway," Louis loses his gaze on Niall. "It would be best if we took him to a bed."

"Yes," she agrees. "It will be for the best."

Taylor and Louis grab Niall as best they can, helping him lie down on one of the farmhouse's beds, while the blonde questions him about their date. 

Louis cannot speak more than wonders of Zayn, he has been really charming and honest, and has invited him to a drink and a good talk, you know, something normal.

When Taylor says goodbye to him and Louis knows that the entire house is silent, he sits on the porch in the face of his impending insomnia and stares at the sky, making time for everything to roar again.


End file.
